


Thaw My Frozen Heart

by DarkSideOfMe



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: (Leia was not a Jedi), (Rey is not a Palpatine), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blindness, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Carbonite, Domestic Fluff, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Flashbacks, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force-Blindness, Happy Ending, Hibernation sickness, Hoth (Star Wars), Hypothermia, Leia has died, Loss of Virginity, One bedroom, Oral Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Sharing Body Heat, Slow Burn, Stranded, That's Not How The Force Works, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Vaginal Fingering, good-boy sweater, mild non-consensual mind-reading via Force-Bond, mild themes about self-neglect / risking one's life, minor Gingerflower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:15:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 26,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22179160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkSideOfMe/pseuds/DarkSideOfMe
Summary: “A bounty hunter decides that the former Supreme Leader would make an excellent prize and manages to get the jump on Ben while he is on a mission for the Resistance, encasing him in carbonite. Rey is quick to mount a solo rescue mission and helps Ben recover from the hibernation sickness when she eventually gets him back."- Reylo-Prompts
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 138
Kudos: 208
Collections: For one is both and both are one in love: The Reylo Fanfiction Anthology's Valentine's Day Exchange, Reylo Prompt Fills (@reylo_prompts), TROS Reylo Fix-it Fics





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Miranda13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miranda13/gifts).



> To Miranda13,  
> I hope you don't mind but this kinda turned into a combination of your three prompts (mostly 1 and 3) as well as the above Reylo-Prompt. It's chaptered and I'm planning to post ~2 chapters per day. I'm sorry I wasn't able to get all your tags in, and there won't be any smut until close to the end. In any case I hope you like it.
> 
> Miranda's Prompts:  
>  **Prompt 1** \- Kylo/Ben gets to spend the night with Rey through a forced circumstance (e.g. battle, capture, trapped, a/b/o - heat) and their desires eventually prevail against their better judgment.  
>   
>  **Prompt 2** \- Kylo/Ben wants to seduce Rey and is not ashamed of using his hot body. It works.  
>   
>  **Prompt 3** \- One of them is under the other's care/custody for some reason (e.g. teacher/student, physician/patient, soldier/prisoner) and they're in love. A catalyst (e.g. a person, alcohol) will finally bring the two together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  **EPISODE IX**  
>  **(the Miranda13 edition)**  
> 
> 
>   
> **Power shifts in the galaxy. Palpatine has returned, seizing control of The First Order to form the NEW EMPIRE. Meanwhile, the RESISTANCE mourns the sudden loss of their leader, General Leia Organa.**
> 
> **In a surprising turn, the Force-user Kylo Ren has left the Empire and secretly joined the Resistance, but he is not well trusted. While on a dangerous mission he is captured by a bounty hunter and frozen in carbonite.**
> 
> **Rey, THE LAST JEDI, has tracked his location across the galaxy, performed a daring rescue, and now she must protect them both. But who will save them from each other..?**

The cold. 

The cold is all he knows. 

The cold and the darkness. 

Together they compose the very fabric of his existence. The cold is—

—wait....

There it is again. 

The light, shining in the dark.

He had forgotten. That is the power of the cold; to make him forget… 

… forget…

… forget what again?

All he knows is the cold and the darkness…

* * *

The cold suffuses his awareness, but something’s different now.

It isn’t until he starts shivering that he remembers he has a body. 

“Ben? _Ben,_ ” comes a voice through the darkness.

He tries to move, but he’s not sure if his body is listening. 

“Ben. Lie down, Ben.” The voice is warm, or maybe it’s just accompanied by warmth. 

He thinks the voice sounds familiar, but his mind can’t seem to place it. But whether he knows the voice or not it seems to know him, so he lets the voice and the warmth guide him back down and unconsciousness retakes him. 

* * *

He’s drifting through the darkness again when he hears a low hum. So familiar… He forces his mind to follow it, up, up, forcing himself to wake.

His eyes slide open and he blinks — only to be met by further darkness.

His mind feels sluggish. He’s lying down. He thinks he’s dressed to some degree, though he certainly isn’t wearing his usual layered robes. Just his shirt and trousers; there’s a blanket on him too. He’s no longer shivering. In fact he’s quite warm, though he aches all over. His left side throbs; his fingers find a squishy bulk beneath his shirt — _a bacta patch?_ — and when he presses on it pains shoots up his side—

The bounty droid had shot him — squarely on the left side — and as he turned to deflect a second shot the floor gave way… 

… and then he woke up here.

He’s been taken prisoner.

In the pitch black he hears a muffled thump. Someone else is here too, down a hall perhaps. He tries to sit up but pain lances up through his side. 

Now there’s a pair of distant footsteps; a presence is drawing closer. Someone’s _coming_ for him. Adrenaline shoots through him. He needs to defend himself. 

On instinct he reaches for his saber and the Force. The first he finds missing from his hip; the second slips through his grasp. He tries again to wield the Force but a pressure stats to build inside his mind. 

The footsteps are running now. His captor is coming. 

Again and again he tries to command the Force, but the pressure in his head becomes a pain. He feels like he’s going to vomit. He lets go before he does. 

If he can’t protect himself with the Force, he needs to move, to get up. He tries to turn to his left, away from the footsteps, but a padded wall blocks his way. His fingers find a vertical groove and he hauls himself up to a sit. He feels weak as a Loth-kitten and the footsteps are still coming from the other direction. He might be able to stand if he first gets to his hands and knees. He turns to his right, planning to plant his hand on the ground— 

—only there isn’t any and for a moment he’s falling through space. He slams into the floor with a metallic _tung_. “ _Ow._ ”

“ _Ben!_ ”

His body aches and his head is splitting; his thoughts won’t order themselves. He tries to stand and falls back to his hands and knees. If he has no weapons then at least he should get his hands up, he should try to go down fighting. That was the plan after all, wasn’t it?

The footsteps are on him and hands grab at him. _“Ben stop!”_ He swats at them uselessly. “ _Ben!_ ” 

And suddenly warm hands grip either side of his face, and he can _see_. Not everything — he only has a vague impression of the room around him — but he can see _her_ , radiantly in the Force, kneeling in front of him. The pressure in his head lifts. “ _Rey..?_ ” he croaks.

She pulls back her hands like she’s been burned and her image dissolves, leaving him in darkness. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have,” she says quickly.

A dull ache returns to his forehead. “Where am I?” He rubs his brow before looking back in her direction. Actually he _can_ still see her, barely, like an afterimage written in points of light. Perhaps it’s their proximity. Perhaps it would be clearer but she’s probably still blocking him (he shouldn’t expect anything different, but the thought still stings). 

“Hyperspace,” she says neutrally. “You need medical attention. I’m taking you back to the Resistance base on Ajan Kloss.”

Odd, to have a ship’s lights out while traveling in hyperspace. She must be using the Force to ‘see’. “What ship is this?”

Even behind her blockade he senses a ping of concern. “Don’t you recognize it?” 

In theory they were on the same side now; if he has a shortcoming she should know. “I’m… having trouble connecting to the Force.” 

He senses a hint of confusion now. He can make out that she’s moving her arm in front of him, but the motion is hard to track and he can’t quite make out the gesture. “And… can you..?” She trails off.

“Can I _what?_ ” It’s at that moment that an auxiliary vent switches on adding a certain whirring sound to the low hum already in the background. Suddenly he’s struck by the smell of old, dusty sleeping-mats and the tang of metal and oil. 

They’re on the Falcon; the crew quarters by the sound of it.

And he knows that if they’re traveling in hyperspace, that the lights — at least some lights — would be on. He realizes then what she was going to ask him. “No. I guess I can’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Feelings? Comments always welcome.  
>   
> Update (Nov 2020): So I've semi-commissioned Mimi (@derpy_mommy) to do a [visual interpretation](https://twitter.com/InaraLock/status/1329254949532946432) of each chapter with her Reylo dolls. I'll try to add them as they are available
> 
>   
>    
>    
> 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's mostly Rey for the next while.  
>   
>   
>   
> FYI: We start hitting flashbacks in this chapter. The present timeline is linear and written in present tense; the flashbacks are written in past tense. Some of the flashbacks are in order while others jump around.

Her hands still tingle from where she touched his face; she tries to ignore it. 

“No. I guess I can’t,” he admits, and her mind spins with the implications.

 _Shit_. 

His face quickly schools itself into a mask as he glares blankly around the room. “What happened?”

“You were captured by a bounty hunter droid on Scarif. He froze you in carbonite.”

His head whirls to her. “ _Carbonite_?” Connected to the Force or not his anger rolls off him. 

_How does he seem so massive even when he’s slumped against the wall?_ “It’s not like I put you there,” she snaps back. “I’m _sorry_ if it doesn’t meet your high standards for capture.”

For a moment he looks stunned. She thinks maybe she’s caught him off guard, but he blinks and the mask is back, exuding flat disdain. “It’s just rather… unoriginal.” 

She peers back and forth between his dark brown eyes, which seem directed at her at the moment; he must be tracking her voice. “You must still be suffering from hibernation sickness.”

“How long?” he asks.

The question could be taken more than one way; Rey answers the easier of the two. “Only a few days. He kept moving you while he was negotiating a pri—” 

“ _How long_ since you thawed me _out_?” 

Shoot. _That_ was the hard question. “Ah.” Reluctantly she checks her chrono. 

“How _long_ , Rey?” he demands.

She resists the urge to flinch at his tone. “Almost six hours.”

There’s a pause. “Oh.” 

It’s the kind of ‘oh’ Rey once said after discovering that the skittermice had gotten into her ration storage; part surprise, part lament. To Rey, the source of his ‘oh’ is clear: to still have no vision nearly six hours after being freed from carbonite does not bode well recovery. And if his ability to touch the Force was also impaired at this point… 

Despite this, his tone is almost bored when he speaks again. “And should I _assume_ I’ll be playing your prisoner at the Resistance base? Do any of the other crew know about the arrangement?”

* * *

A dozen or so ships clustered on a lush green field, on an uninhabited planet, in an out of the way system. It was the Council’s first meeting since Leia’s passing. While the Resistance now relied heavily on a distributed leadership the meeting was needed to cement the new chain of command.

The Council members were assembled in the command room of the largest ship — the Eravana. A dozen small tables formed a rough ‘U’, and at its base sat Poe, the Resistance’s new General. He was everything the Resistance needed. Bold, confident, charismatic.

The perfect figurehead.

And next to Poe sat Rose, who had no fewer than seven datapads in use at any one time. It had been Rose that had helped Leia rebuild the Resistance. She had proven that her mind could tackle any strategic problem, from designing communications networks and supply chains, to suggesting both military and political courses of action. Rose had even insisted on Poe being promoted to General after Leia’s passing. He was the perfect war hero to take up the mantle, but he also knew the value in keeping Rose as his adviser. 

Poe was the face of the organization; Rose was the brains.

And behind them stood Rey. While her presence carried a political weight, she also had a practical function — protection — something she did not want to fall short on. Her eyes scanned the room just as her mind scanned the intentions of those present.

Without any fanfare, Rose finally sent the message she had queued up several minutes ago, and a moment later a male Mon Calamari stood and addressed the room. “Ah-hem. I think we’ll get started now. Would you please lend your attention to our new leader, General Dameron.” Applause rose from the room as the speaker folded back into his chair. 

Poe addressed the room from his seat. “Greetings to you all. It is with a heavy heart that I have assumed the role…” 

Rey let the speech fade into the background; something was off. 

She could sense it, and yet couldn’t. She re-scanned the room. There was no deceit, no maligned intentions. Everyone in the room listened to Poe with varying degrees of goodwill, many thankful when his words quickly turned to matters of strategic importance. 

She flung her senses out further. She would have easily sensed if an Imperial flagship had suddenly dropped out of hyperspace, but even a smaller ship with few crew should have pricked her senses. 

She scanned the surrounding fields and forest, but found only it’s usual non-sentient inhabitants. Strange. Nothing out of the ordinary. Then what was it? She turned her mind back to the guards in the hall. They were attentive, alert, happy to open the doors… wait. What?

The door at the far end of the command room slid open with a hiss, and a dark-masked figure strode through.

 _Shit._ She never thought he would try something like this _alone_. If he had brought reinforcements Rey would have sensed them, but currently — because she was blocking the bond — _he_ was the only being in the galaxy that Rey couldn't sense.

Rey _should_ be drawing her lightsaber, she _should_ be leaping over Poe’s desk, because she fully expected _him_ to start hacking everyone to bits, and yet Rey just stood because _he_ just stood, right in the center of the tables, his hands at his sides. 

Admirals gasped and lieutenants knocked over chairs. Poe had gotten his feet, hand on his blaster and for a moment he struggled — like the guards — to draw his weapon, but when it was clear that it would not move and he stopped trying.

The dark figure cocked its helmet. “It’s General Dameron now, isn’t it?” spoke the modulated voice. No one in the room would have been faulted for thinking that the figure was looking at Poe — not even Poe himself — but Rey, who stood just behind Poe, knew who he was really looking at. 

“Yes, and I hear that it’s _former_ Supreme Leader Ren now, or am I mistaken?” Rey could feel Rose cringe at Poe’s quip (this was Rose’s nightmare, Poe in a high-stakes encounter with no preparation and no script).

The moment stretched until the figure simply said, “You are not.” They had received intelligence that the Supreme Leader had knelt before Palpatine weeks ago, but recently — in the wake of Leia’s death — they had heard rumors that he then left the New Empire. 

Rey sensed more guards positioning themselves out in the hall. Of course that meant that _he_ must sense them too, and yet he acted as if they’re not there.

“And to what do we owe the pleasure of having you join us at our highly secret meeting?” Poe’s tone was surprisingly even. 

Slowly, the figure lifted its hands — one gloved, the other bare — causing the guards to shift uneasily. His hands settled on either side of his helmet, and after a hiss he lifted it off, his hair falling in lanky locks around his face. Most in the room had never seen his face.

Helmet resting under his arm now, his eyes had shifted to Poe. “I would like to propose a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

* * *

Rey clears her throat. “Ah, yes. One of the crew knows.”

A huff of air escapes him. “Chewbacca, I assume.”

“Yes,” she swallows. “Chewie knows.”

“I’m almost surprised that the Council _bothered_ to rescue me.” He pauses a moment and turns towards her. “Who gave the order?” 

She opens her mouth, and only barely finds a reply. “I— can’t discuss it.”

“No, of course not.” He looks away, his eyes seeming to narrow on nothing. “My weapon?” That he had to ask her where it was was perhaps the best evidence that he truly couldn’t touch the Force. 

“I have it,” she says, feeling its weight on her left hip. 

When she offers nothing further he grunts. “Hm. What of Palpatine?” 

She sighs thinking of the latest casualty reports. “We lost Dathomir and Yavin. We’re back to a stalemate now, but…”

“But what?” he spits.

“Morale is fading. The Council feels that several of our allies are weighing their options.”

His mouth tightens and eerily he looks her straight in her eye. “And what do _you_ feel?”

How is it that he can sound so much like Luke at times? “We’re losing. One more defeat and it’s all going to fall apart.” 

His brows draw together. “An odd time to send your best asset to rescue a liability.” _Oh kriff._ “Who gave the order, Rey?”

His eyes seem to bore into her, but she’s saved by the _beep-beep-beep_ in her ear. She presses the button on her com and listens a moment. “ _Shit_.” And then she’s running down the hall. 

“What is it?” he calls from behind her.

“They found the base. I need to reroute us.” She hates the thought of just leaving him alone on the floor. “Here catch!” She turns and lobs the com towards him—

—and only remembers his lack of vision a moment later when she hears, “Ow!”

“Sorry!” she calls back as she sprints to the cockpit. She’s dropping them out of hyperspace before she even sits.

The other com unit sits buzzing on the copilot controls. She summons it over as she brings up the nav map. 

“ _Rey? Rey!_ ”

“I’m here.” She swaps over to the copilot’s chair so she can access the nav computer. 

“ _Why didn’t Chewie answer the com?_ ”

“Ah.” They need a place to set down until she can contact the Resistance. “Because Chewie’s not here.” 

“ _Where is he?”_

“Kashyyyk, with his family.” Her eyes glide over the sector map. There. It was only one system away and she thinks the Resistance wiped the planet clean of scout-droids months ago.

 _“Then who’s your copilot?_ ” 

“Ah, well D-O tries to help when he can.” Of course D-O was currently charging, _again_ ; she really needed to get him a new fuel cell.

“ _The wheel droid?_ ” There’s an unimpressed pause. “ _Who else is on this ship, Rey?_ ”

“Ah, well, two people.” Course set. “If you count you and myself.”

There’s another pause, though shorter. “ _Are you saying you went after a bounty hunter with only a_ droid _to help you?_ ”

“No." She’s hops back to the pilot’s seat. "Hold on.” They shoot into hyperspace; it was going to be a short run. Really short. They were practically on top of the system already. 

“ _Then..?_ ”

“Well, actually, D-O stayed on the ship. I went up after the bounty hunter alone. Now get strapped down. We’ll be there and landing in a moment.”

“ _No, I’m coming up there._ ”

“What? _No_. Just stay put.”

“ _You_ need _a copilot._ ”

“No, it’s fine.” She buckles herself into her own seat. “Strap in. We’re coming out of hyperspace.” She pulls back on the lever. “Just stay— _Shit_.”

Instead of the cold night sky that she had anticipated, the ship is suddenly jostled by clouds and wind and blowing white flecks.

“ _Ow! What the_ hell’s _going on up there?_ ”

Rey fought with the controls. “I wanted to come out close to the planet in case there were scouts.” Because there were always new scouts. “Apparently we dropped out in the middle of a snowstorm.”

“ _Just hold it steady until I get there. I’m halfway._ ”

“No, just stay where you are. You can’t help anyway and— Ahh!” Everything in Rey’s vision goes white as the lightning bolt strikes the Falcon.

Rey feels the anti-grav and the propulsion engines die, and as they plummet it’s all she can do to reboot them. As they come back on and Rey hauls on the controls to ask the ship to climb, or at least stop falling. They’re slowing, almost stopped. They should start gaining altitude in a moment. Rey starts to smile— 

—but it’s interrupted when the Falcon slams into the ground, and everything goes black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Curse words, in order of severity (for this fic): kriff < shit < fuck.
> 
> As before, thoughts and feelings are fully welcome in the comments section.
> 
> PS: sorry, but I don't know who to credit for the Falcon layout picture. I found it on Pinterest. If someone knows who I can credit it too, please drop a comment.
> 
>   
>    
>    
> 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter going up today to keep my wonderful V-day Reader fed.

“ _Rey?”_

 _Where am I?_ If she could only open her eyes… 

“ _Rey? Rey, I’m coming... Ow._ ” Distantly, she hears a series of thuds.

“Okay...” she says sleepily. She didn’t know why she wouldn’t want him too. 

“ _Rey?_ ”

She blinks as the flight console comes into focus. The sky through the view port is a dim indigo. “Yes?”

“ _Are you okay?_ ”

She realizes that she’s still strapped to the captain’s chair. She straightens herself up. “I’m fine.” But according to the status panel the same is not true for the Falcon.

“ _What’s wrong, Rey?_ ”

“It’s — we’ve lost the com disk and…” _Shit._

“ _And_ what _, Rey?_ ” Frustration seethes across the com.

“The propulsion system.”

“ _What?!?_ ” The com hisses with the volume of his outburst.

Rey sighs. How did it come to this?

* * *

He spoke with the authority of someone who was used to being listened to. “The Resistance will provide me with targets and I will take them out.” 

Poe let the silence draw out before prompting, “And?” 

“And you will provide me with sufficient supplies to carry out these missions.” 

Some of the Council members shifted uncomfortably. “And?” Poe repeated.

“And nothing.” 

“Nothing?”

“Nothing,” the dark figure repeated, his eyes catching hers for a moment. “No payment. No fanfare. No rank. It’s probably best if the arrangement is kept out of public knowledge.” Rey could feel Rose’s dread turn to interest with every declaration.

“It doesn’t seem like you’re getting a lot out of this,” Poe observed. 

“I have my reasons.” Momentarily his eyes flit to her again.

“Well, it _is_ an interesting offer,” Poe said flatly. It was the same tone he used when trying to bargain for engine parts so Rey was caught off guard when he suddenly turned and said, “But what does the Master Jedi say?” 

Suddenly every eye in the room had turned to her but she couldn't spare them a glance, for _his_ had moved to hers as well. They held her captive in a silent conversation that was all questions and no answers, leaving her no room to think of an answer. But suddenly Leia’s words started to tumble from her mouth. “It would be unwise to refuse aid so generously given.” If the response elicited any response in the cloaked figure it didn’t show on his face.

Poe turned back slowly, catching a small nod from Rose as he did — Rose, who was tapping furiously on a fresh datapad. “Since this matter is so clearly in our favor, the Resistance will accept your offer. Of course, should you try to make the arrangement public, the Resistance will deny its existence.” Poe smoothly accepted the datapad from Rose and tossed it towards their unexpected ally. 

The datapad froze and hung in mid-air next to him before he took it lazily in hand. “Of course.” And with that he spun on his heel and was out the door before Rey could even think to move. 

* * *

She stands, arms crossed, looking down on him where he sat. “You’re not coming outside with me.” 

At least he’d had the sense to strap himself in at the dejarik table when they started dropping out of the sky. “You may need my help.”

“You can’t—” She stumbles on the words. “You can hardly _walk_ , and I don’t even know if I have cold-weather clothes that would fit you.” Though she probably did, given the ship’s former owner.

He too had his arms crossed. “Cold weather? What planet are we on?” 

Oh great; here it comes. “Hoth,” she admits.

“ _Hoth?_ ” 

“It’s not like I had a choice.”

“You _chose_ one of the most inhospitable planets in this sector.” Angrily he starts undoing his restraining harness. 

“Yes, because all the hospitable ones are taken.” Her breath comes out in little puffs of vapour; the ship’s computer had reported a major hull disruption under the ship and apparently this room was rapidly cooling. “Look it’s too cold outside. Soon it’ll be freezing in here. Let’s get you back in the crew quarters.”

For a long moment she thinks he’s going to refuse, but then he petulantly pulls himself up by the dejarik table. For a moment all Rey can contemplate is just how _large_ he is, but then as he turns to walk away— and nearly doubles over in pain. 

In a flash Rey has slid under his arm to support him, being careful to keep a layer of cloth between them at all points. “How did you even get this far?”

“It’s amazing what you can do when you think your ship’s going to crash,” he says between gritted teeth.

She rolls his eyes, but her annoyance melts away as she helps him hobble down the corridor. With only a layer or two of cloth between them the bond hums in a way that's strangely comforting; she pushes the feeling away. “How's your vision?” A chill runs through her suddenly; the ship must be cooling faster than she thought.

For a moment she doesn't think he's going to answer, but then, “I'm starting to make out blurry shapes.” 

"Oh, that's good." Well, it's better than nothing, but not much more than that. They hobble around the last turn and into the crew quarters. “I’ll bring you a ration bar before I go out.” 

He stops abruptly, and she thinks she’s going to have to endure complaints about _food_ when instead he says, “I, uh,” and he nods to their right.

She blinks at him for a moment before it dawns on her that they’re standing next to the refresher. “ _Oh._ ” Suddenly her face burns. “Yes. Of course.” At least he can’t see her blazing red cheeks as she awkwardly helps him through the door. “Are you good there?”

“I'm fine.”

“I’m letting go now. Don’t fall.”

“Wise advice,” he deadpans.

“Oh, stuff it.” She finally manages to squeeze her way out the door and pull it closed behind her. She leans on the wall on the other side of the narrow hall as she waits. 

Should she run and grab the ration bar now? She could but she doesn’t want him to finish before she’s back and try to walk the rest of the way without her. She _could_ ask how long he is going to be… except, no, she absolutely _can’t_ ask that. No stoically waiting was definitely the best option. Or so she thinks— until she hears the sound of draining water, a torrent that is both powerful and impres—

“I’m going to go grab those ration bars!” She’s sprinting to the kitchen before she even finishes her statement. They don’t have many — ration bars — but he definitely should eat if he’s hungry. She grabs a bar and a canteen of water and hurries back to find him leaning in the open ’fresher door. 

For a moment she thinks he’s going to complain about the bars, or making him wait, but when he hears her approach he just lifts an arm so she can slide under and help him the rest of the way. She deposits him on the center crew bunk where he’d been lying earlier. “Food.” She’s careful not to touch his skin as she passes it to him. “Water. And I’ll be on the com if you need me.” At least the com system still worked. 

“And I’ll be here.” There was something unsettling with how he seemed to always look at her straight in the eye; such a contrast to how he was unable to focus on anything else around him. He’s probably doing it to be bothersome and just getting lucky.

She steps back. “Great. Well then. Com me if you need me.” Drat, she’d already said that. And before she can ramble further she forces herself to turn and stride proudly out the crew quarters. She closes the door behind her and heaves a sigh.

Thank the stars they can’t sense each other’s emotions with the blockade in place. Most of the time she wants to kick him and yet right now she misses the feeling of his nearness — not to mention that her ears still burn with the sound of him using the ’fresher. Maybe she’ll just die from conflicting emotions before the cold ever has a chance. 

And with that sobering thought she heads to the front of the ship to find her cold-weather clothes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is someone a little flustered?
> 
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> 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to post this Saturday, but really late Friday night is practically Saturday so...

Lying atop the Falcon, Rey squints at the torn supports for the communications disk — or tries to. Her goggles have frost on both the in- and outside, making it impossible to see clearly in the thin morning light. Frustrated, she pulls the goggles down and cold air starts to bite at her skin. 

Rey was used to Jakku’s cold nights and she had been on other planets with snow, but nothing had prepared Rey for _Hoth_. Despite her cold-weather clothes her fingers and toes are numb and her teeth are starting to chatter. 

She makes note of the missing bolts and ripped supports, and is happy to see that only a few wires had been severed. 

She sits up and glances around warily. They’d crashed onto an open snow swept plain and just sitting there made Rey feel uneasy. The only good thing was that the storm had blown over, leaving a spotless blue sky in every direction.

Rey quickly secures the disk with a unidirectional bonding strip — the last thing she needs is for it to get blown around before she can repair it — and stands to survey the open tundra again. There was nothing but endless snow to the north and east and west, but to the south she can see cliffs in the distance. She scans them with her macrobinoculars, zooming in where the cliff-face is stained black. The old Rebel base, right where it should be. A sigh escapes her in a crisp white cloud. Maybe they did have a chance — if they could get there. 

Suddenly the com pops to life. “ _Ah!_ ”

“Ben?” She’s running to the top-side hatch without waiting for a reply. 

“ _Get off me!_ ” comes through the com. Had someone snuck aboard the ship?

She discards only her gloves as she runs through the corridor, grabbing her saber-hilt with one hand and opening the crew quarter door with the other.

“ _N_ o _!_ S _t_ o _p_! _D_ e _a_ c _t_ i _v_ a _t_ e _!_ ” 

The scene she walks in on is not what she expected. He’s on the floor again — and a small wheel-droid is… trying to undress him? “ _Blood. Blood. I clean._ ” D-O strains to reverse as he pulls on the black shirt with his muzzle. 

“Nooo, _stop_ it!” The shirt has ridden up around his shoulders, trapping his arms forward and exposing his flank. He might have just grabbed the droid, but D-O has his welder arm deployed, buzzing at any hand that gets too close. He kicks at the droid — or tries to in his weakened state — but D-O easily circles him. Suddenly the angle changes, giving a flash of exposed pectorals, and Rey’s eyes bulge.

_Oh…_

Rey gives herself a shake as _he_ and the droid continue to fight for his shirt. She _needs_ to stop looking. 

She averts her eyes downward, but that brings something else into view. In her hand she’s not holding the Skywalker saber — which had taken her months to repair — but _his_ saber, scorched black around its exhausts. Her eyes bulge at the sight of the dark shaft in her hand — _how had she grabbed the wrong one_? As she scrambles to clip it back on her hip she hears a loud rip. 

D-O flies towards Rey’s feet and _he_ might have fallen back the other way — except that the way is blocked by the edge of the bunk. “Ow!” Rey cringes at the impact, but her mind is still spinning with why she’d pulled the wrong saber.

Suddenly his eyes snap up at her. “ _What?!_ ” Had she gasped? Made a noise? Of course he probably heard the door open. 

“Ah, nothing.” She means to keep her eyes on his face — it should have helped that his shirt had mostly fallen back into place — but her eye is drawn to a pale dot of skin showing through the new hole over his right abdomen. She forces her eyes back up. “Nothing at all.” 

“ _Ptooey_ ,” the droid exclaims. D-O spits a dark circle cloth on the floor at her feet before his head swivels back to the figure on the floor. “ _Blood. I clean._ ”

As D-O rolls towards him, _his_ eyes sweep back and forth, trying to discern where the next attack might come from. “ _No_ , droid. I said—” And then he pauses. “Wait.” And she swears he _looks_ at her for a moment before turning back to the droid. “Actually, I’ve changed my mind. You may clean this for me, but let me take it off.” 

D-O straightens in anticipation. “ _Oh goody._ ”

 _Oh no_. “Oh, you don’t have to. I can ask him to go—”

He reaches for the hem of his shirt. “Oh but I want to. It seems like it would make him _happy_.” And then he’s pulling the shirt over his head and tossing it to the droid. 

Rey stands stock-still as D-O drags the shirt from the room and the door closes. She needs to look at his eyes. Just his eyes. _Don’t let your eyes drop_. Breathe. At least it’s easy to look him in the eye when he’s looking at her; it helps keep her attention from his bare, broad ches—

“Your droid attacked me.” 

_For crying in the desert._ Her eyes roll (which is probably for the best). “And, as you _realized_ , he was just trying to do something nice for you.” She pulls her goggles from around her neck. She might normally walk over to the bunk on the right — her usual bunk — to continue to doff her snow-gear, but instead she stays standing in the middle of the room and tosses her goggles to her bunk. “Whenever he sees blood he gets a little over enthusiastic about cleaning.” And considering how _his_ shirt had been covered in it it's no surprise that the little droid had ‘attacked’ him. His wound had started to bleed again the moment he thawed out and she was lucky to have a bacta patch handy. The Jedi were supposed to be able to heal with the Force, but despite many hours meditating over wounded Resistance fighters she had never deciphered how. 

“Huh. Why am I not surprised that the Resistance tolerates glitchy droids?” he says still sitting on the floor. 

She starts unwrapping her long scarf next. “He’s very good with the Falcon actually.” 

His, “Hmh,” is dismissive. “And speaking of ‘good with the ship’, where _is_ Chewbaccah?”

“I told you, on Kashyyyk.” She bundles the scarf and it too arcs to the bunk.

“Yes, but _why_ isn’t he _here_?”

“He wanted to be with his family.” Her coat follows next; she needs to act natural.

“So why weren’t you assigned a different copilot for your rescue mission?” he presses.

“That’s classified.” The parry was easier this time.

“Who gave the order, Rey?”

“Classified.” _Just breathe_. She toes off her boots.

“Hm.” He’s clearly unconvinced. “How is it?”

“How’s what?” _Just breathe_. She bends to grab her boots. 

“The _ship_ ,” he spits slowly.

“Umm, not good.” And as her hand scoops down, her smallest finger happens to catch on the small circle of dark fabric on the floor; she grabs her boots on the upswing and stands. _You’re just holding your boots._ “She can’t fly. No long-range communication.” She turns to her bunk. “I can repair everything but..—” 

“ _But_?”

Couldn’t he just let her finish her thoughts at her own pace? “But right now we’re in the middle of an open field of snow. We have no cover and there’s a gash in the bottom of the ship. If we stay here we’re either going to freeze, or be buried in the next snow storm, or be blasted off the face of the planet the next time a scout-droid wanders by.” She uses one hand to set her boots on the floor while the other tucks the circle of cloth into her belt; perhaps her misdirection is unnecessary but given how he always seems to be looking at her, his vision could have recovered further since she last asked ( _or_ he could be underreporting his recovery, making him seem helpless when he isn’t. Rey wasn’t sure).

“Then you should do your repairs quickly.”

“Ah, no.” Annoyed, she starts pulling down her over-trousers. “Repairs will take at least a week. We’d freeze before then. There’s an old Rebellion base a few clicks from here. I’m going to move the ship, then repair it, then get us out of here.” She sits on the edge of her bunk so she can pull them off all the way. 

“You said it won’t fly,” his words still press for answers but something has shifted in his tone, making it sound softer.

“Yes, but we still have the anti-grav,” — she had used it to get the Falcon off the ground and onto its landing gear — “and the stabilizer jets.” She stands again so she can place her gear in the compartments beside the bunk.

“That sounds like a terrible idea.” Although he really only said it half-heartedly.

Had he not seen her childhood memories of using an anti-grav sled to haul scrap? She turns back to him. “Only if the wind picks up and right now it’s pretty calm.” 

“And if you damage the ship trying to move it?” He still hasn’t moved from his spot on the floor.

“Then we are still just as—” _Don’t say ‘screwed’._ “—bad off as we are if we stay— hey!” Suddenly, she’s being dragged backwards by her belt.

“ _Blood. I clean._ ”

She turns and finds D-O pulling her, not by her belt but by her grey body wrap. She grabs the cloth in both hands. “No, D-O, no. I don’t need you to clean that.”

“ _What_ did he say?” The voice behind her has returned to its previous harsh tones. 

“Nothing. It’s nothing. D-O let go.” Damn, the little guy has a good grip.

“D-O,” he demands firmly. “What has blood on it?” 

The little droid stops trying to reverse for a moment. “ _Sash_. _Rey’s sash._ ”

“ _Why_ do you have blood on you?” His voice is louder now.

“Because I _bled_ on it, all right?” She tries to grab the cloth close to D-O’s muzzle, but the droid threatens her fingers with his welder.

“Are you _injured_?” comes from behind her.

The wound had been very superficial. “No.” Damn it, if she keeps pulling the cloth is going to rip, but she can’t actually get out of her sash while the droid is pulling. “Okay D-O, fine. Let go and you can clean it, okay?” The droid muzzle suddenly releases and she jolts back—

—smack into something warm and solid. A deep voice grunts at the sudden impact. She turns to find him right behind her, holding the wall for support. 

“ _You_ should be sitting, or lying down,” she says as she starts to pull one end of her sash loose.

“Am I not _standing_ to your liking?” He seems to pull himself up so that he — and his _damn_ chest — take up even more of the space in front of her. His eyes bore into hers. Damn, how is he _doing_ that?

Now free, she drops half of the sash to the floor and starts pulling on the other end. “You’re wounded. You need to rest.”

“And apparently so are you. Do you need a medic?”

Does he think she can’t take care of herself? “ _No_.” Her irritation seethes as she throws the rest of the sash towards D-O.

“Where are you injured?”

It was just her leg. “Why would I tell you? I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself.”

“Just like you can look after this ship?” 

_That’s — it_. “You know, maybe I shouldn’t have bothered to thaw you out after all.” Of course, that hadn’t really been an option, but _he_ doesn’t know that. “Now if you don’t mind I have things to do, so why don’t you sit down, and use your mouth to eat something.” She starts to gather her cold weather gear back out of her compartment. 

“Where are you going?” he booms from behind her.

“Where do you _think_?” As if her options weren’t limited to ‘inside the Falcon’ and ‘just outside the Falcon’. She bends to grab her boots.

“I like knowing.” As she straightens she can feel his breath on the back of her neck. She spins and finds his face centimeters from hers. 

She didn’t want to back away but without his shirt on she couldn’t push him without touching his skin, which she didn’t need right now. The moment draws out and when he still doesn’t back away she summons the Force, applying a firm pressure to his shoulders. His upper torso shifts backwards and finally he’s forced to take a few steps back. “It’s not your place to know,” she spits and spins on her heel.

She storms out of the crew quarters and presses the door controls with more force than was necessary. The sounds of the door slamming shut echoes through the corridor and she realizes just how loud her voice had been, how fast she’s still breathing. She closes her eyes and heaves a deep sigh. Why did he always have to be so infuriating? How does he always manage to get under her skin, spark her anger? 

Maybe _that_ was still his plan; to seduce her to the dark side. Had he only joined the Resistance just to get closer to her? 

No, it didn’t make sense. He had ‘joined’ the Resistance only to then avoid her at every turn, starting with that first day. 

She sighs and heads to the cockpit though chilly corridors. At the last door she listens back up the corridor, and on hearing nothing she closes and secures the door.

She quickly tosses her gear in one corner and moves to the back wall of the cockpit. A flick of her fingers and the lower panel comes free. She reaches in the compartment and pulls out a cloth bag. She tucks the circle of black cloth into a pocket on the outside, the scavenger in her taking pride at her new acquisition.

As she places the bag back in the hidden compartment she lets her hand glide over the surface, feeling the dome-like shape of one of the other items inside it.

* * *

As the door closed behind him, the command room erupted into a flurry. Councillors talked in small groups, tapped on datapads, or — the majority of them — rushed to circle around Rose. 

“ _Not a word of this to anyone outside of this room_ ,” Poe’s voice rang loudly over the din. 

_Go_. 

Rey blinked — right, why was she just standing there? — and started pushing through the wall of people that had sprung up around Rose. She burst into the hall only to find several guards staring at their crumpled laser rifles. She ran for the nearest landing ramp. 

Outside a dozen guards were huddled behind supply crates.

“Oi! Which way did he go?”

A shaky-handed commander pointed towards the tree line and, there, she could just make out a black billowing cloak in the distance. She ran, but had barely started across the tall grassy field when his TIE rose from the distant stand of large trees and took off in the other direction. 

She stood, watching the tiny dot of light fade into the sky as the wind swished through the grasses all around her. Had she been expecting something different? And by that meaning _either_ had she expected him to be waiting for her at the edge of the forest? If he had wanted to speak to her he wouldn’t have left so abruptly. 

She was surprised then because she felt… nothing. Not anger. Not hurt. Just… nothing. 

Was she expecting to? (Did she want to?)

But why would she expect to feel anything different? She was the one that had been blocking _him_ out (well… except that _one_ time). 

When she could no longer make out his ship she turned to head back to the Eravana— 

—and almost tripped on something. A rock? No it was lighter; her foot had moved it. She looked down to see what it was, and her jaw dropped at the sight of a dark helmet lying in the grass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's abs and pecs brought to you by Prompt #2 ;)
> 
> Questions and comments: always welcome.
> 
> There will be more posts tomorrow (Saturday) I'm just not sure when.
> 
>   
>   
>   
> 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rey climbs down from the ceiling hatch and her goggles start to fog almost instantly. She can barely see as her feet hit the landing.

“You went out again.”

Her heart jumps as she spins around, one hand dropping to her hip, the other ripping down her goggles awkwardly.

He leans against the corridor wall, dressed again in his long-sleeved shirt. She lets her hands drop; at least she grabbed for the right weapon this time. “Yes, I had to straighten the conduits for the aft stabilizers.” If _he_ has his shirt back, maybe D-O will have her sash ready. She should get it back before going out again. “ _You_ are supposed to be resting.”

Even supporting himself on the wall he seems to take up most of the corridor. “I’m a bad patient.”

“And a bad prisoner,” she shoots back. 

His eyes seem to bore into hers. “I didn’t think we needed to put on a show for anyone, since even the _droid_ knows what’s going on. Or are you changing the arrangement?” 

The air vents hum in the background. 

“No,” she finally answers. She notes how steady his gaze is and tries to soften her tone. “Are you feeling better then? Your vision?” 

He frowns, but after a moment he shifts his eyes around the corridor, evaluating. “It’s—” He waves his free hand around; how are his hands so _large_? “—maybe a little better.” Though even he doesn’t sound convinced.

She _could_ ask about his other deficit but just can’t bear to. Rey hasn’t known the Force for long as long as he has, but she still feels it like an extra limb. She can’t imagine what suddenly losing it would be like. If his visual recovery was going poorly then was his recovery with the Force equally hampered? Still, she tries to sound hopeful. “Well, that’s something.” 

His head whirls back to her — “I don’t need your _pity_.”

The heat in his voice sparks the fire in her veins. “ _Fine_.” She storms off towards the cockpit. “Go strap yourself in somewhere. I’m going to try moving the ship,” she calls back. 

From the captain’s chair she starts flicking switches and looking at readouts. She’s trying to decide on the best way to arrange the controls for the stabilizer jets when a large lumbering form stumbles into the seat next to her. 

“What are you _doing_?” she asks incredulously. 

“Strapping myself in.” His hands grope for the restraining harness straps. 

“I meant in the crew quarters.”

“This will be fine.” His fingers seem to have no issue slotting together the complex buckles as he squints against the bright light coming through the viewport. “Besides you need a copilot.”

“You _can’t_ be serious.” She glances at her controls; the pressure feed for the stabilizer jets was at half and rising. 

“I can be an extra set of hands. You have enough to do managing the stabilizers, the least I can do is control the anti-grav.”

“And how will you know what needs to be done?” The wind was down; this was going to be her best chance to move the Falcon. She didn’t have _time_ for this.

“Call it out to me.”

“No,” The thought is ridiculous. “I’ll be fine.” 

“This isn’t like piloting with a propulsion system,” he says, the edge returning to his voice. 

“I’m aware of that, and I said I can handle it.” At least, she can handle moving them over the open ice field; parking in the hangar might be trickier.

“Fine. Then I’ll just sit here.” He leans back in his chair, continuing to squint at the horizon.

“ _Fine_.” She’ll just have to ignore him. 

She does her final checks. The anti-grav reports no issues, and all stabilizer jets were now functioning. She flips a switch and the ship shifts slightly. She gives the lower stabilizers a pulse and the ship lifts into the air. At five meter’s clearance she sets the aft stabilizers to low and the ship starts drifting forward.

She can do this.

The open icy plane crawls past them, but gradually they pick up speed. There, that’s fast enough. Any faster and stopping suddenly could be an issue. 

She tries to keep her eyes on the terrain and her controls, but inevitably she glances at the figure beside her. He’s gripping the armrests and flinches every time the ship is shifted by a gust of wind. It’s certainly not a complement to her piloting skills, though he isn’t snapping at her or asking what’s going on. It’s a little cruel, perhaps, making him ‘sit in the dark’. She looks forwards again, out the main viewport, and sighs inwardly. “We have seven meters clearance and we’re moving around thirty clicks.”

Out of the corner of her eye she can see him turn to her. “How much further?” he asks after a moment. 

She checks the nav screen. “One-point-two kilometers.”

“Do you have the specs for the hangar entrance?”

“No. We’ll have to scan it once we’re close enough.”

He nods. “You’ll want to get the speed down on final approach.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yes I _know_.”

“And what if the ship can’t fit?” The edge was back in his voice. 

It was the one flaw in her plan. It would have taken precious time for her to walk there and back just to scan the hangar. As there was literally nothing else in any other direction so she hadn’t seen a downside to taking the Falcon south. “In that case we’ll have to try something else.” What that would be exactly, she had no idea.

She braces for him to berate her but he just goes back to staring forward, his jaw working silently.

The ‘flight’ over the ice plane is smooth. “Adjusting course for final approach,” she says as she unbalances the stabilizers to put them into a turn. As the burnt out hangar comes into view — her view, she supposes — it gapes like a wide black maw. “Moving at ten clicks,” she calls out, even though she doesn’t have to. She asks the computer to start scanning the hangar. “Kriff.”

“What?”

“It’s going to be tight.” The hangar’s mouth is filled with rubble, reducing its size considerably. 

“What’s the clearance?”

 _Kriff_. Most of the mouth is too small, but on the right it’s a little wider. She starts to slow further and adjusts her course that way. “I’m not sure. I’m going to have to scan it again once we’re closer.”

“Is there _anywhere_ else we can go?”

She shook her head. “Not anywhere that we can reach.” Her second scan is worse. Perhaps she could have managed the fit at the mouth, but a few meters in the cave it narrows even further. “We’re not going to fit.” Maybe they could land and she could move a bunch of the rocks out of the way, though she doesn’t relish the thought of standing in the cold to do so. Not for something as large as the Falcon.

“What’s the _clearance_?” he demands again.

“Vertically it gets down to fifty-two centimeters.” It would be crazy to try with just the stabilizer jets. “I can’t do it. I’ll damage the ship.” She reaches for the reverse jets.

“You can do it.”

She gives a dismissive shake of her head (she probably should stop answering him in gesture but at the moment she’s focused on avoiding a snow drift). She starts slowing the ship and for a moment the only sound was the ping and hum of the Falcon. 

“The Force will guide you,” he says softly. The longing in his words plucks at her heart, and gives her pause.

“I appreciate your vote of confidence, but even with reaching out I can’t do this with the stabilizer jets.” Perhaps if she had eight hands she could have done it, or even six. There were just too many sets of jets to control at once and she didn’t trust herself to adjust the controls using the Force (lifting rocks was one thing, but the controls were delicate and she can’t risk damaging them). She scans around for a place to land. _Kriff_. She was probably going to freeze to death before she had the entrance clear. They survived the crash, but their chance of surviving the planet was steadily dropping; she wonders if he knows it too.

She thinks that he’s finally going to let her be, but then, quietly, he says, “I can help you, if you let me in.”

Her hands freeze over the controls. 

He swallows. “It’s fine if you don’t want to. You should—” 

“Yes.” She says it before she can think twice about it, because she knows she can’t do it alone. Because they had to survive and get back to the Resistance. (Because deep down — despite not being able to stand him most of the time — she didn’t want him to die). 

Rey closes her eyes. It only takes a thought to drop the walls that she had built around herself, and then she can sense him staring back at her. She reaches out and the bond shudders as he reaches back and some part of them slides into one another. 

Rey opens her eyes, and her mouth clicks as she works her jaw and tries to swallow. “Does that help?” she asks quietly, absently flicking a few controls. She tries to stay on her side of the bond but it’s like a warm glow, drawing her attention.

When he speaks his voice is smooth and calm for the first time since he woke. “Close your eyes again.”

Her jaw tightens as she feels him slide around the edges of her mind, like a cloak placed deftly around her shoulders.

“Close your eyes and reach out.” The words almost feel whispered into her ear, though she _knows_ he hasn’t moved. “Feel the control panel.”

She shifts one last lever and lets her eyes slide shut. 

“Breathe.”

She exhales and with it reaches out around her. She senses the panel in front of her, but then expands her awareness to the panel on his side as well.

“Good.” She can sense him too. His hands now move to the controls in front of him. “Now feel the outside of the ship. Feel its edges, the size of it. We need its shape.” As he speaks she pushes herself awareness to encompass the Falcon, all the ups and downs of it’s hull. “Good,” he says. “And now the ground, the hangar, all the little outcroppings that want to snag the ship. See our path through the opening.” She could hear him start to flick his own buttons, transferring control for some of the stabilizers to his side of the panel. “There’s a rock just before the entrance. You’ll need to pick up the port side and set it down once we’re past it.”

“I see it.” Rather than a sharp retort, her reply is neutral, factual, born of the calm she suddenly feels.

“Good.” The word reverberates through her body. Had she actually heard it in her mind, rather than with her ears? “Slowly. This is going to be tight.” She fires the forward jets to slow them, and he drops them lower to the ground. “Let’s ease it in gently.”

“We’re still too high.” Just another fact about their shared situation — a communication rather than an attack — and he seems to accept it as such.

“There.” He’s dropped them down a little more and makes a few adjustments to the angle of the ship. “That rock…” is all he says, but she knows the one he’s thinking of. She’s already reaching out and moving it aside, giving them significantly more leeway. But if reaching out with the Force is like reaching out with an arm, then she can sense his arm too, ghosting along her skin as she extends herself forward, not touching her or the rock, but reveling in the feeling of that freedom. She feels him sigh, but then they have to get back to steering the ship.

The terrain is rising on the left; he rotates the ship as she slides them to the right. The ship creeps forward, deeper barely missing several outcroppings. They’re past the mouth of the hangar, but a low row of twisted metal greets them. 

“Together,” he says and she fires the aft jets as well as those under the front of the ship while he dials up the anti-grav. 

The Falcon sores over the wrecked Rebel ships and she levels them out again. “Clear.” 

He trips the landing gear, and it deploys smoothly. “Set her down nice and gently.” She can feel his attention drawn to a clear spot just ahead. The touchdown is smooth and flawless. 

Rey lets her eyes open and takes in the scorched walls of the hangar. 

They did it. 

She can feel his relief, his hope, his exhaled sigh, his mouth curling up at the corners, his wide chest as he inhales, his arms as they relax at his sides, his—

And before she takes another breath she raises her wall again, cutting off the connection. 

“Umm, thank you. That was helpful.” She keeps her eyes locked forward as the Falcon as it hums away.

He sits there for a moment and then wordlessly stands. On awkward feet he feels his way to the back of the cockpit and with a stilted gait disappears down the hall. 

She takes several breaths as her heart rate returns to normal. She has things she should be doing. She needs to seal the hangar bay doors to keep the wind out if she can. She knows she needs to move, but for the moment all she can think of is that feeling of _connection_. It was more than just when the bond would passively link them to speak; it was the kind of connection that was only forged when they were reaching out to each other. 

It was the feeling she had discovered in the hut on Ahch-to. A feeling she had only felt once since. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rey is still staring out the viewport a few minutes later when D-O comes by with her clean sash. His emotional awareness algorithms tell him that something is wrong with Rey but she denies it when he asks, and a few minutes later she heads out of the ship still looking unhappy.
> 
> * * *
> 
> I hope I'm not bumming people out too much. Things will get better. Are Rey's motivations clear enough? That she keeps shutting him out because she doesn't know if she can trust him?
> 
> * * *
> 
>   
>    
>    
> 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The one time since Ahch-to..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you remember how last chapter didn't have a flashback? Well this one is all flashback.  
> PS: Not all flashbacks are in order.
> 
> CW: please see the end notes if you'd like to read the content warning. It's nothing bad, per se, but it's not the sort of thing you usually see in a fic, and I don't know how to hint at what it is without giving it away. It gets revealed pretty early in the chapter.

The Falcon’s boarding ramp was still descending as Rey ran down it. The Eravana’s hangar was packed with unfamiliar ships but they’d still made room for her to land. She sprinted the length of the ship to where a row of storage units had been converted into medical suites. 

Rose leaned against a wall, scrolling through a datapad; just past her two guards stood at attention outside one of the units. It was the middle of the night by ship’s time, so the lights were dim and otherwise only a few med-droids roamed the hallways. Rose looked up at Rey’s footsteps and they embraced tightly.

“What..—” Rey felt her eyes prick as she tried to find the words. “— happened?” 

The shorter woman squeezed her tightly. “I’m sorry Rey, she wouldn’t let me tell you.” 

“What?” That couldn’t be true. “Why?”

“Because—” Rose sighed as she pulled away. “—because, if you knew…”

Rey closed her eyes. “Because if I knew, I wouldn’t have left.” 

Rose offered a sad smile. “She needed you to take back Arkanis, not meditate at her bedside.”

Rey sighed, knowing that’s exactly what she would have done. “So… she knew she was sick?” Leia had looked so well the last time Rey saw her. “What..?” She didn’t even know how to ask the question, it felt so unreal.

“Radiation sickness, from the attack on the Raddus. For a long time the medics were amazed at how well she was doing but then she started to rapidly deteriorate, like something had been holding her together and then just… stopped.”

Rey nodded. It made logical sense but it still didn’t feel like it could be true. “Is there a plan or something? Going forward?”

“Oh there’s a plan.” Rose’s eyes glazed as if visualizing combat strategies. “Her plan. The funeral ceremony is tomorrow. Cremation, of course. Broad Holo-Net transmissions. An announcement that Poe will be promoted to general and a speech for him to read. She’s been planning this a while. We’ll be announcing the support of several systems as well as the victory at Arkanis. You’ll need to be seen. You need to look—” Rose waved her fingers about. “—Jedi-like. I have some special robes.” Rose fished a datapad out of her pack. “Would you be willing to have someone braid your hair?” She spun the screen to show Rey a picture of a woman, her hair in fancy twists. 

Rey nodded. “Yes, anything.” Anything for Leia. Oh _kriff_ she was going to cry again. She looked to the door with the guards. “Rose?” 

The other woman followed her gaze. “Oh, yes. She’s inside. You can visit if you want to. Everyone else on the list has already come and gone.”

“The list?”

“Of those that can visit her body before the ceremony.” 

Rey almost laughed. Leia was first and foremost a master of lists, so why not one for that?

Rose walked her to the door and the guards stepped away to give them space. “You can visit as long as you want. She’s under a low-powered steri-field, but it’s safe to touch her. You can—” And for the first time Rose seemed to choke up a little. “—hold her hand, that sort of thing.” The door hissed open leading to a short hallway. 

Rey nodded and stepped over the threshold. “Thanks Rose.”

The other woman sniffed back a tear. “I’m going to get a few hours sleep. I’ll send someone for you in the morning.” 

Rey pressed the door control as Rose left. The door slid shut and suddenly the only light was a soft blue coming from around a short bend. Rey turned towards it, her eyes adjusting.

She turned the corner into what felt like a standard medical suite. In the center Leia’s body lay on a medtable, a rectangular steri-field covering her from head to toe in scintillating blue. She was dressed in white and grey robes, her hair done up in elegant twists. 

She looked so peaceful. If Rey had looked with just her eyes she might have thought the general was sleeping, but one glance into the Force and Rey could tell that no life remained. Death had often been Rey’s companion on Jakku. She’d learned to accept losing the people she knew but that didn’t stop the tears from coming when she took Leia’s hand. They welled up in her eyes, and trickled over down her cheeks. Her breath tried to hitch in her chest.

She remembered her last visit with the General. Leia had given her the orders for the Arkanis mission personally. Their sources had speculated if _he_ might be there, on Arkanis, and as Rey turned to go the General had stood. “Rey…” 

‘Rey’ she’d said — not ‘Master Jedi’ — and when their eyes met Rey knew what she was asking. “I’ll try,” she said back, and Leia gave a somber nod.

He hadn’t been there, and Rey had helped the Resistance take back the planet. It was while she was freeing prisoners in the capitol that she felt it — a sudden emptiness, like a familiar star winking out — and Rey _knew.._.

And here Rey was, seeing it with her own eyes, holding Leia’s cold hand. Even seeing her now it was still hard to believe. 

And what would happen now? To the Resistance? Would Poe be able to lead in Leia’s footsteps? How were they supposed to stay united as the shadow of the New Empire grew? As Palpatine’s armies spread? Not that the Emperor led his armies personally; that job was left to _him_ if their reports were correct. 

_He_ would have felt Leia’s passing too, Rey supposed, probably more than she had. She wondered where he’d been, who he’d been with, when it happened. Had he smiled? Rejoiced? 

No. Somehow Rey knew that was not the case. 

And suddenly Rey knew what she had to do. 

She ran back to the door, quietly engaging the manual locks, and on returning she combed the room with her senses to ensure there were no surveillance devices. Privacy assured, she stood at Leia’s bedside, and closed her eyes.

_Just breathe…_

She tucked away all thoughts of their location and her recent missions and let out all her air. She let the walls in her mind lower and a connection hummed to life almost instantly. She opened her eyes and found him sitting across the room, his face in his hands. He stilled, sensing her. 

She rounded the end of the medtable to stand in front of him and he straightened at her approach. She could see him trying to school his features, but the mask he donned quivered. “I’m sorry,” she finally said. She wanted to say more, but anything else might give too much away.

For a long moment neither of them moved, her standing, him sitting and not quite meeting her gaze. Finally he nodded, his jaw tight. Another moment passed, and she could sense his unease. The man who had sparred with both words and sabers finally was out of attacks. “Is there something else?” he asked finally.

Her eyes darted to the lightsaber at his hip, but somehow she _knew_ he wouldn’t attack her; not today. “Would you… like to see her?”

His eyes widened. “You’re with her?”

Rey nodded. “There’s no one else here. The door’s locked. No surveillance.” She swallowed. “There won’t be another opportunity.” She raised her right hand towards him.

He looked at her for a moment longer, and then stood slowly. The took off his left glove and set it aside — to Rey it seemed to disappear the moment he let go of it — and then he too reached forward and took her hand. 

The moment they connected she was aware of _him_ , his inner self looking at her across the bond. She was also vaguely aware of another reality surrounding her — a white room with steps and tables — superimposed on her own.

She turned and led him the few steps until she was at the medtable — she was towards Leia’s feet, he towards her head. Rey placed her hand upon the table and tried to shift her thoughts away from the white room, to root herself in her reality.

She could feel the moment his perspective shifted; the moment he saw the General. He didn’t move or flinch, but she could feel an ache in his chest swell suddenly. His breath was coming a little harder and there was a slight tremble in his hand. 

He used his teeth to pull off the other glove and it dropped to the floor. His right hand free he reached towards the steri-field, but stopped just shy. He looked at her, questioning.

“Oh— it’s okay. You can touch it.” And she proved her point by placing her free hand in the field, hovering over the general’s body before withdrawing again.

He nodded and extended his hand to take his mother’s, dwarfing hers with his own. His breath hitched, and Rey was struck by the intimacy of the moment. 

She took a small half step further down the table, turning her body away slightly, trying to provide some illusion of privacy. And as if mirroring Rey’s intent, her vision shifted from the medical suite to the white room; to _his_ reality. Strange objects sat on pedestals, and a few large windows gave a view of the stars. Through a door she could see what looked like a bed. If these were his private quarters they were quite different than before. 

And as she turned further she saw a large section of wall that had been recently slashed to pieces with a lightsaber, the edges still smoking. Rey kept her thoughts and posture neutral; it wouldn’t help to acknowledge that she saw this. 

There was a gentle tug on her hand, and it brought her attention back to the medical suite. She turned and found him looking at her, not making any effort to hide the wetness on his cheeks. She stared at him dumbly for another moment before she realized that he wanted to move up the head of the medtable. Moving in step with him, she shifted so he could stand adjacent to Leia’s head. 

Rey went to turn away again, to give him his privacy, but she felt his grip tighten on hers. She looked back. His lips were pursed in a tight line and his eyes asked her to stay. And so she shifted back to stand with him.

He placed a hand on his mother’s shoulder and his breathing started to come faster. His other hand trembled in Rey’s.

 _Breathe_ , she thought, taking and releasing a deep breath of her own. She squeezed his hand just a little bit tighter, and felt his tremble subsided as he squeezed back. 

_Breathe._ She could feel and hear him breathe with her this time.

He bent and kissed Leia on the forehead, and Rey could feel the echo of a hundred different memories, each of Leia bending down to kiss him on the forehead as a child. It was beautiful, Rey thought.

He rose and they stood together, their breathing in sync. Tiny motes of dust floated in the blue of the steri-field, whirling in tiny air eddies which are constantly being influenced by their exhalations. 

“Thank you.” His sudden words snapped her out of her quiet reverie and she snuck a glance at him. His eyes were still on his mother’s face.

She cleared her throat as her eyes turned back to the general. “No problem.” 

They stood there in silence until he faded away, and when the bond closed she let out a long breath. She took a minute to fold Leia’s hands the way they’d been when she entered, to straighten her robes where the fabric had shifted.

It wasn’t until she was about to leave that Rey felt something soft underfoot. She reached into the shadows by the medtable. It was soft and pliant, and when she brought it into the light, Rey found herself holding a black leather glove. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: in this flashback Rey visits Leia's body the night before the funeral ceremony.
> 
> * * *
> 
> I've had this scene in my head for over a year, and it felt really good finally getting a chance to write it, so thank you for reading. 
> 
> This chapter is also where this fic proudly passes the Bechdel test.
> 
> Obviously it's the most serious chapter of the fic; sorry for the emotional whiplash. If anyone has thoughts or feelings on this chapter I would love for you to share them below in the comments.
> 
> The plan is for one chapter (7) to go up tomorrow (Sunday).


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So in the tradition of 'great minds think alike/ fools seldom differ', it would seem that both Miranda and I made moodboards yesterday without the other knowing. :D
> 
> You can find [Miranda's here](https://miranda13ao3.tumblr.com/post/190842097425/thaw-my-frozen-heart-a-bounty-hunter-decides-that) (it's certainly inspired me to spice things up if I do mine over ;) ). 
> 
> And here is the one that I did last night after posting chapter 6:  
> 
> 
> Just one big chapter today. Sorry it's coming a little late.

_Breathe_ …

The hangar’s blast doors had been destroyed long before Rey was born.

 _Breathe_ …

Outside, debris from the attack still lies buried beneath the snow.

 _Breathe_ …

And above that snow an icy wind blew, endlessly shifting the tiny flecks of white in an endless dance.

 _Breathe_ …

Rey can feel all these things, and more, from where she stands just inside the hangar door. Eyes closed, arm outstretched, she asks the snow to cleave in vertical lines — first parallel, then perpendicular — and lastly she asks it to separate from the snow beneath. 

And then Rey asks it to rise. 

The block struggles at first. The Force is fickle on Hoth, strong one moment and weak the next, as if the wind is blowing it to and fro like steam. Suddenly — for no reason that Rey can detect — her grip on the block solidifies and it lifts free of the snow around it. 

Rey guides the block to the mouth of the cave, and sets it atop the other blocks of snow there. Rey opens her eyes as she heaves a sigh. The wall of snow is nearly complete, but the effort has left her drained. Her stomach grumbles — reminding her that she hasn’t eaten since before the rescue — and she shivers despite her cold-weather gear.

She looks to the ground on either side of her, where a rippling circle of stone sat in contrast to the rock around it. She’d plunged her lightsaber into the stoney ground until it turned into a pool of molten rock. The heat had helped her fend off the chill of the hangar, but only until the stone cooled and she had to repeat the process. 

She looks at the wall with weary eyes. She’s almost done, but she’s so tired, and so _cold_ , that she wants nothing more than to stop. 

She sighs. But stopping is not an option. If Hoth is cold, nighttime on Hoth is colder. They needed the wall to buffer them against the worst of it, and time was running out. 

She tests the circle next to her with the corner of her boot. When her footwear doesn’t hiss or melt, she steps onto the stone and she _thinks_ she can feel a tiny bit of warmth coming through the soles of her tall boots. It helps a little but another pool of magma would help more.

Too tired to reach for her saber, she calls it to her hand and when she looks — 

— the black cross-guarded saber-hilt glints up at her.

_No!_

Her hand jumps in shock and the saber-hilt clatters to the frozen ground. 

Earlier, when she’d taken the wrong saber from her hip, she’d told herself she was just distracted; it was an honest mistake in the heat of the moment. 

But now… _his_ saber had come to her call. Yes, it had done that once before, while Snoke had held hers captive, but she’d _meant to_. This time — she swallows — she’d meant to call _her_ saber, and yet she’d summoned _his_. 

Again she wonders if he’s only here to seduce her to the Dark Side. And if the saber is a sign, does it mean it’s too late? Has he already influenced her? (Hasn’t he?) 

The saber looks cold and alone — lying on the ground — and she kneels beside it.

But how could he be drawing her to the Dark Side when he makes her feel neither anger, nor hatred, nor fear? When he makes her feel— 

She scoops the saber-hilt up almost gently. Its blackened metal feels heavy and warm in her palm as she clips it back to her belt; it takes her three tries to do so.

* * *

Rey sets down the last block, and releases her grip on the Force. _Finished_. And just in time. Outside, she can feel that the wind is picking up, the temperature dropping. 

She opens her eyes and is surprised at how much of the dimming sunlight filters through the white blocks. It bathes the Falcon in a pale blue light. 

_Hmm._ Should she repair the hull rupture first? Or the com-disk? 

She’s weighing the pros and cons when her stomach interrupts with a growl. Perhaps _that_ should be the next thing attended to. 

(Not that they have much food. For all that the Falcon had been re-fueled for the trip to Mandalore, the food supplies had _not_ yet been restocked, and Rey felt a fool for not bringing more. She’s gone hungry before, but at least on Jakku there was the _hope_ of getting more food the next day. Here there’s not.).

These thoughts heavy on her mind, Rey walks back to the Falcon, and is about to ascend the boarding ramp when she hears it. A faint whisper. She would have thought it was the wind, but there is none now that the entrance is blocked off. 

She steps away from the ramp and cocks her head waiting for the whisper to come again. Years of climbing inside star destroyers had taught Rey how to track echoes in a space again. 

There it is again, from the back of the hangar. It’s there that several tunnels lead deeper into the old Rebel base. She strains but can’t make out the words, even without hearing them she knows they’re for her. 

She hears the whisper a third time. She’s already taken a few steps towards the back of the hangar when she stops herself. No. Her mission is here with the ship ( _just the ship?_ ) not running through uncharted tunnels. It would certainly be unwise to go now while she’s exhausted and cold.

She forces herself around and up the boarding ramp. Inside the corridor is cold but it’s still warmer than the hangar. She turns towards the mess, still dressed in her cold-weather gear, when a voice of a different kind catches her ear — _his_ voice. 

She turns about and heads up the corridor. She creeps down the hall, and is surprised to realize that the voice isn’t coming from the main hold, but the cockpit.

She can only make out faint words, “ — powergrid — turn that off — “ and there are pauses too, like he’s talking to someone. But _who_? It’s only when she’s half way down the hall that she hears short synthesized responses between his deep tones. 

“... reset the thresholds on environmental stations three through seven.”

“ _Complete_.”

D-O. He’s talking to D-O. 

In the cockpit.

“Good. And now the same for eleven to fourteen.”

She rounds the last bend and finds him sitting in the co-pilot’s seat, D-O looking up at him from the floor. “ _Complete_.”

He must have heard her approach because he looks from the droid to her as she enters. 

“ _Hi Rey,” D-O chirps happily._

“Hello D-O,” she says absently, not taking her eyes from _him_. “What are you doing?” 

“We need to save power. If we keep heating the whole ship we’ll drain the fuel cells faster than we can charge them—” 

_Charge them._ Oh, right. Forget the com-disk and the hull rupture. Now that they’re out of the sun she needs to set up the portable chargers, or their fuel cells would die.

“—especially with the hull breach. If we just heat the crew quarters, and keep the rest of the ship above minus ten, we should be fine.”

 _Oh_.

He cocks his head. “What?”

“Ah, nothing.” It’s just that she’d planned on sleeping in the cockpit since he would be occupying the crew quarters. _But_ doing so _would_ require twice the power… “It’s… a good plan.” Just an inconvenient one. She could still monitor the com from the crew quarters. She’d just have to deal with— 

“You should eat something.”

She blinks. “Pardon?”

“You… sound hungry. Go eat.” 

Did he just give her an _order_? “Believe me, you don’t know _hunger_.” She whirls on her heel and marches straight back to the boarding ramp. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of telling her when to _eat_. And if she got the solar cells out now she wouldn’t have to do it in the morning.

The light coming through the snow-wall is much dimmer than a few minutes ago, but there’s still enough so Rey can find the chargers and their cables. 

When Rey gets back to the wall she finds her last heatwell completely cool. She thinks of reheating it but grimaces at the memory of the summoning the wrong saber. Besides, she doesn’t plan to be out long. 

The solar chargers are folded up like long rods, ready to unfold like a metallic flower. Of course they’re supposed to go on the _outside_ of the wall, and Rey hadn’t made any doors, but a simple solution seems evident. 

Rey stands before the wall and with the help of the Force carves a straight round tunnel through one of the blocks. She glides the first charger through — wiring already attached at the back — and with a tiny whiff of the Force, trips the deployment button. She senses the solar panel unfurl, and an indicator light blinks on where the wires couple together. 

Perfect.

One down, three to go, and hopefully they will be just as fast because she’s already feeling the bit of the cold again.

The second charger deploys smoothly, as does the third. By this time the light has dimmed so she sets up her portable lantern. She has to take off her gloves to do that and she’s shivering hard by the time she puts them back on. She carves the tunnel for the fourth charger, glides it though, trips the deployment button— 

— and nothing. 

From the other side of the wall Rey focuses her senses on the mechanism. It seems jammed. She follows the deployment rods along the panels and— _ah_ , that one is bent, preventing it from sliding to open the panels. The panel unfurls symmetrically, so if one leaf locks they all lock. 

_Shit_. 

Pressing a button with the Force is one thing; fine mechanical repairs were another. She can’t risk breaking the charger; they need all the power they can get. 

She moves to a spot several meters down the wall, and — praying that the wall will hold — carves a much larger tunnel — an arch actually — just tall and wide enough for her to walk through. As she ejects the carved out snow outside, a blast of icy wind hits her in the face. Her cheeks sting and she realizes she isn’t wearing her goggles; she must have taken them off in the ship. _Wonderful_. 

Rey exits the narrow arch with her lantern, and the wind seems to cut right through her cold-weather clothes. The sky is almost balck and while she doesn’t know the temperature it’s _much_ colder than before. 

The solar chargers are spaced out along the wall, the first three ready for tomorrow’s dawn, the forth still unfurled. Rey sets her lantern on the snow beside it, and mournfully takes off her gloves. Her hands sting and her body starts to shiver as she pulls out her portable screwdriver. 

It takes several attempts to get the rod’s coupling undone. She holds the screw in her teeth so she won’t drop it as she bends the rod straight — well almost straight, but good enough for this purpose. She nearly fumbles the screw into the snow twice; she can barely feel her trembling fingers as she gets the coupling back in place. The cold metal burns her finger as she hits the deployment button, and— _oompf!_ Rey lands back in the snow to avoid being struck by the deploying panels. 

It’s actually kind of nice to sit down, she thinks as she stares at the charger. Maybe she could rest here a bit… The wind doesn’t even feel that cold any more. In fact the cold isn’t bothering her like it had. The wind is happy for her to rest here… 

But then there’s another voice on the wind. 

_Rey?_

She can almost see it, that voice. It lies beyond the wall.

_REY?_

She blinks. Had she heard something? Oh right. The Falcon. The Falcon lies beyond the wall. She has to fix the Falcon.

Rey pushes herself up, barely feeling the snow sting her bare hands. She grabs the lantern in one hand and her gloves in the other and staggers back through the narrow arch. 

The Falcon’s exterior lights are on now, making it easy to find. Had she turned them on earlier? She zigzags towards the ship, nearly tripping on a laser canon from an old X-wing. 

She’s almost to the ship when the boarding ramp starts to lower and a tall figure carefully steps down. She feels something warm in her chest when he turns and spots her. “Rey?”

“Hi— ” She might have said his name, but suddenly both she and the lantern tumble to the ground. Had she tripped on another laser canon? A rock? Either way the ground feels nice.

“Rey!” He’s helping her to sit. “Rey, are you okay?”

“What?” she asks dreamily. The ground had felt so nice. 

His eyes flick back and forth between hers. “I’m taking you back inside.”

“Okay.” Maybe then she can lie down and sleep, though she doesn’t relish the idea of walk— _ooo!_

She’s in his arms then, being cradled to his chest, as he stands back up and makes his way carefully to the boarding ramp. She realizes — because her face is pressed against it — that he has Han’s old jacket. How nice, she thinks, for him to have something of his father’s. 

The journey back to the crew quarters is rather bumpy, and a fair number of _ow’s_. It’s only as he sets her down on her bunk that she briefly remembers that something was wrong with his eyes. He stares at her a long time before he asks, “Are you okay?” again.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” 

His eyes seem to squint all the harder at her. “You were out there a long time,” he says as he strips off his coat. 

“Mmm,” she agrees, promptly wondering what she’s just agreed to.

“Rey?” His hands hover at his sides. She bets his hands are warm; his fingers too. 

She pulls her eyes from his hands and finds him kneeling so his eyes line up with hers. “Yes?” 

He’s doing that jaw thing again; does he know he’s even doing it? “Are you sure you’re okay?” She likes his voice; maybe she should tell him that.

“I feel great. Just hungry.” Or at least she had been; she wasn’t really any more. “And tired.” Really tired; maybe she should sleep.

“ _Rey_.” 

Her eyes snap open again and she finds him looking at her. “Oh hi.”

“Rey, I’m sorry about this.”

“About what?” 

When his hands envelop hers, they’re _warm_. Warm as if Rey had forgotten what warmth was and he was there to teach her. But it’s not just the warmth she feels, it’s also _him_. It’s like he’s just on the other side of a wall. She’s not really sure where the door is, or how to open it, but now it’s clear to her that he’s there, waiting for her on the other side. If she could just find the key…

His hands pull away, leaving the ghost of his warmth behind. Too bad; she’d kind of liked it.

“Shit.” His eyes dart between hers.

“What?” she asks with a yawn.

“You’re freezing.”

“Yeah, it’s cold out.” And suddenly he’s pulling her up to stand and starts tugging at her coat. “ _Hey._ ”

“You need to get these clothes off. You’re freezing and your cold-weather gear is only helping to keep the heat away from you.” She just laughs as he tugs down her over-trousers. “Sit.” She does and he pulls them and her boots off completely. He pauses and looks her up and down. “Can I take your sash off too?”

“Did you just ask for permission?” He never asks permission for anything. Rey starts to laugh.

He glowers, which Rey finds even funnier and she just - _can’t - stop - laughing_. 

“Okay, I’m just going to take it off, because it’s also helping to keep you cold.”

“Um, okay,” she says as she continues to giggle. 

He curses a dozen times trying to figure out which way to pull to undo it. “I’m taking these too,” he says, unhooking the lightsabers from her hip. 

“ _Hey._ ”

“They’re going to be right here beside your bunk,” he says firmly and he places them in her compartment. 

Rey tries to think of a reply, but a wave a tiredness washes over her, and she sags against the bunk. She might have fallen, but then warm hands are lifting her onto it, helping her lie down, and pulling the blankets over her.

She watches as he turns and feels his way to his bunk and it suddenly strikes her that he _still can’t see_ very well. Funny, how had she forgotten that? 

She watches as he strips the blankets off his bunk, crosses back to her and starts laying them atop her. “I thought that insulating me from the warm room was bad.” Oo, that sounded really smart; maybe she’s not as cold as he thinks.

He finishes arranging the blankets over her feet. “It is, if you don’t have a heat source.”

She screws her eyes up to peer at him. “What heat source?” Beside the bunk he fiddles with a panel, and suddenly the pallet jerks away from the wall. “ _Ah!_ ” After a few moments it stops and when she looks behind her the pallet has become almost twice it’s former size. “I didn’t know it did that. What- _Hey,_ ” she cries as he starts crawling over her. “What are you _doing?_ ”

He pauses to look down at her. “Trying to keep you from dying.”

“Oh,” she blinks. She didn’t want to die, because then he’d die, and she didn’t want that.

He continues to crawl to her other side and slips under the blankets. “I _would_ throw you in a hot shower but sonics aren’t helpful in that regard.” She lets out a small squeak when his arm wraps around her middle and pulls her to fit against him. And— _oh_.

 _Ooh_. 

He’s so _warm_. 

He tucks the blankets around them like a cocoon. For a time she just basks in the warmth radiating into her body. He seems to have maximized their contact area quite efficiently, though not a centimeter of her skin is directly touching his. 

“How did you get so cold?” he says in quiet tones by her ear.

Her eyes pop open at his sudden words; she hadn’t realized they’d closed. “I had to go out.”

He’s so close, she can hear his eyelashes sweep against her hair as he blinks. “Outside the wall?” 

“Mmm,” she nods as her eyes slide closed again.

“For the chargers.” 

It wasn’t a question but she _Mm_ ’s again anyway.

“And you were outside when you took your gloves off?” He doesn’t sound very happy.

“Hmm.” Yes, she supposed she was. And thinking about the wall and the hangar reminds her of something. “There’s somewhere I want to go.”

“ _Now_?”

“No, just… sometime.”

“And,” he sounds a bit confused, “where is it you want to go?”

“The tunnels that lead deeper into the base. I heard a voice… or something. I think it wants me to follow it— ” Her words trail off into a yawn.

“No.”

He’s no fun. “But—” 

“No, Rey, you’re not going.”

“But—” 

“ _No_.” 

She, “ _Hrmphs,_ ” at the firmness in his tone. If he reacts to that at all she doesn’t notice, though she _does_ notice that her arms are shaking again. “W-why am I shivering now? I thought I was supposed to be getting warmer.” Her whole body was starting to shake strongly. 

He clears his throat. “If your core body heat drops below a certain temperature you stop shivering. That you’re shivering again is a good thing. It means you’re warming up.”

She still needs _more_ heat? She feels like her body has just been sucking his out of him since he lay down.

But she can feel the cold inside her now — she hadn’t for a while — but she can also feel where she is warmest. Her back is warm; the back of her legs are warm; even the side of her face feels warm — and it’s then that she realizes that his arm has somehow replaced her pillow. 

She presses her body against his to help the heat soak in faster — _Mmm._ He feels so good against her. She’s still shivering of course, but at least she’s… safe? That she can finally succumb to her fatigue and drift to sleep. Or can she? “Is this like in one of those stories where one person is injured and the other has to keep them awake until dawn?”

“No.” The rumble of his chest feels soothing against her back. “You can sleep.”

 _Oh good, but the lights are still on_. 

He sighs and takes his arm from around her. She’s about to protest the loss of arm heat, but then the lights dim and his arm returns. She grabs his forearm and tugs it closer to her chest.

The ship hums around them and she’s just nodding off when his whisper jolts her awake. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Done what?”

“Gone out in the cold. It was risky.”

“Pfff. You’re the one who takes too many risks.”

His head shifts against hers. “And what do you mean by that, exactly?”

But by then Rey was already asleep.

* * *

The Eravana’s command room was busy as Rey skimmed the datapad Rose had just given her. 

“The attack on the freighter is expected to come somewhere between these two points,” the shorter woman explained.

Rey nodded. “We can leave as soon as we’re resupplied.” They had only just gotten back from a similar mission three sectors over.

“Actually, given the freighter's schedule, you won’t need to leave until tomorrow. Any questions?”

Rey glanced around and leaned forward. “Um, any word on _him_?” she asked quietly. It’s not that Rey hadn’t tried to answer this question. She spent quite a lot of her downtime reading about rogue attacks on the Empire. At first she had looked for accounts involving a red-bladed lightsaber, but there were none to be found. Then she learned his typical pattern: total annihilation of the target, and, in the rare case of survivors, they didn’t remember a thing about it. 

Rose glanced around, before dropping her eyes back to her datapad. “Umm, he’s in the Mytaranor Sector.”

“What? Why?” Rey said in a clipped whisper; Rey had a bad feeling.

Rose was silent for a moment.

“Rose,” she pressed.

“He’s… taking out the new Star-Killer production facility.”

“ _By himself_?” Rey knew he would have no Resistance back up.

“It was his idea.”

“And you let him?”

“He—” Rose started and stopped.

“He what?”

“He asked for something with a higher payoff.”

“You mean, he asked for something more dangerous.”

The other woman shrugged helplessly.

Of course, what was Rose going to do? Tell him ‘no’? Rey sighed. “Thanks for letting me know.” 

Later — in the small room she had been assigned — Rey stared out the viewport, taking in billions of stars in that slice of the galaxy, and whispered, “Please, be with him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hypothermia... serious business. Do not attempt at home. (But yes it can, in some severe cases, make you act inebriated).


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not sure if this is canon, but at least in this fic the Falcon’s crew quarters have a split refresher (bathroom), with the refresher (toilet) on one side of the hall, and the sonic (sonic shower) on the other.

_She can feel his warmth pressing into her back as his strong hands glide up her torso. They cup her breasts and squeeze her nipples making her moan, while his lips graze her ear._

_One of his hands starts to venture lower again, his fingers nearly spanning her whole abdomen. They curve over her as they dive between her legs, thicker and stronger than her own, yet no less nimble. She pants to the rhythm that he starts to rub onto her._

_He feels so_ good _against her. Solid and warm._

_He shifts his body so he can reach even farther and his fingers pressing through her folds._

_“Please…” she begs, and at her request he starts to push a finger into —_

Rey wakes with a sharp inhalation. 

She’s in her bunk, in the crew quarters — a view-port in the ceiling lets in a small amount of light — but something is odd about the room; the angle of it. She swivels her head and her eyes bulge when she finds her bunk to be twice its normal size. 

_Oh…_

The rescue. The crash. The biting cold. 

The warm body. 

All the events of the last day come crashing back.

Her eyes whirl around the room to find the center bunk empty, even of its blankets. But if he’s not here then where— ?

A soft thud comes from the refresher. She pushes off her heavy blankets, and gratefully finds a ration bar lying next to her pillow. She devours it as she walks to the tiny hall by the exit, cocking her head towards the ’fresher door. She blinks in surprise when the next _tung_ comes not from in front of her, but behind. _He’s taking a sonic_?

She’s about to call out of him — to make sure he’s okay — but that would require saying his name. Yes, she’d said it to his face, long ago. Yes, she’s even called it out over the last day. But she actually doesn’t know if he _wants_ to be called that. To the Resistance Counsel he was still just ‘Kylo Ren’; a name she couldn’t bear to utter. 

She’s staring at the door — still waffling between ‘Ben’ and _that other name_ or just ‘hey you’ — when the door whips back and he’s standing there, filling the door frame. He’s dressed back in his usual attire — long black shirt, black pants — but his skin seems cleaner, his hair softer. “Yes?”

Should she thank him for the night before, saving her from the cold? She hasn’t figured out what to say yet. “You… took a sonic?”

He stiffens and his jaw works. “Is that a problem?”

“I… thought we were conserving energy.”

“I… needed one.”

“Oh.” Had lying next to her left him feeling soiled? Would she always just be a filthy desert rat to him? And then she spots the unit’s complex control panel. “Did you manage the controls alright? Are you seeing better?”

His face falls. “No,” he says as he pushes past her. “The controls just haven’t changed,” is all the explanation he gives as he feels his way along the wall.

 _Oh_. She wants to give him some space but there isn’t really anywhere to go without getting her cold-weather gear on. The best she can do is pretends to check her hair in the ’fresher. She’s still not ready for the ‘last night’ conversation. She weighs whether she should ask him about his connection to the Force.

“No, that hasn’t changed either,” he calls from the next room and Rey’s eyes go wide in the reflector. 

She’d been watching her face, so she _knows_ her lips hadn’t moved while she’d considered the questions. And if her lips hadn’t moved then how had he heard her? She checked her walls and they’re high and strong as always. Her whole body feels rigid as she steps out into the hall.

He’d been folding a blanket — his arms held up to perform the next fold — but now his arms are frozen in place, his body stiff. He already _knows_ that she _knows_.

“You’ve been hearing my thoughts.” She wanted to speak clearly, but somehow it came out in a whisper.

“Not always.” He lowers his arms, turns to look her in the eye.

She takes a step forward. “You can _see_ me.”

He turns away, finishes a last fold and places the blanket on his bunk. “A little. More than anything else.” 

And all this time she thought her walls were equally effective both ways. “Is that how you found the Council?” Her voice was back, and it was demanding. “Did you _track_ me there?”

“I—”

“What have you been looking at inside my head?” She strides towards him and he turns his body to face her, hands held up in front of him. 

“It’s not like that.”

“ _No_? Then what is it like?”

“I—” His eyes cast around as if the answer might be hiding in the room. “When you’re close, I sometimes get impressions of what you’re thinking.”

Rey’s face suddenly burns with the memory of some of her thoughts from yesterday. From last night. From _this morning_. She turns to go.

“No. Rey...” A large hand lands on her shoulder.

“ _Don’t touch me_.” She whirls away from his hand and summons the two lightsabers to her sides. 

“Rey…” He still holds his hand out to her, but he stops following.

“If we’re on the same side, then why didn’t you tell me?”

His jaw works. The moment stretches.

“Forget it.” Rey storms out of the crew quarters, her cold-weather gear floating in a pile behind her. 

“Rey…” He’s in the tiny hall between the fresher and the sonic.

“Stay here. Don’t leave,” she says with a leaden tone, and she slams the door control.

She uses the Force to dress herself as she marches down the corridor, jumping into her over-trousers, punching her arms into her coat.

How could she be such an idiot? Why did she think she could trust him? She sighs.

What had she been thinking, coming after him the way she had?

* * *

It was the middle of the night on the Eravana so the hangar was quiet. The lights were dim, though she still had to be careful not to get caught. On the other side of the hangar two mechanics repaired an engine, and a handful of guards ringed the perimeter, but at this distance _they_ served little hazard. 

She sat behind the body of an X-wing as a solitary guard patrolled causally between the rows of ships. She sensed, with the Force, when he turned down a different row and she darted across the way. She weaved between smaller ships, until she found the one she wanted. 

The Falcon stood ready, fully fueled for the mission to the Mandalorian sector that she is to embark on… 

… tomorrow.

The patrolling guard was still heading away from her, so she sped across the open space between the ships and slipped up the loading ramp. 

She sat low in the captain’s chair as she waited for the nav-computer to quietly do its calculations. Despite knowing the Falcon inside and out, she reviewed the sequence for rapid take off. She had to make it out of the hangar-bay doors before anyone had time to close them. 

A soft whir from behind alerted her to another presence. She leapt from the chair, saber-hilt held low in front of her, thumb on the trigger, ready to overpower whoever it is when she spotted the small wheel-droid on the floor.

“D-O…” she breathed.

“ _Hello?_ ” the droid quivered.

She knelt down in front of him as she tucked away her weapon. “I’m sorry D-O. I wasn’t expecting anyone.” She held her hand out to the little droid and he scooted forward to nuzzle at her hand. 

“ _D-O early._ ”

“Yes, you _are_ early for our mission.”

“ _Rey early too_ ,” he said cheerfully. At this point they were only short a copilot.

 _Kriff_. She couldn’t exactly kick him out of the ship — he might alert a passing guard — and she did _not_ want to deactivate him. There was only one alternative. “D-O, the plans have changed. We can’t go to Mandalore tomorrow. There is another mission that I have to go on. Right now.”

“ _Oh? Rey go?_ ” The droid’s head sunk.

“Would you like to come with me?”

“ _Oh goody, oh goody._ ” He jigged back and forth, bopping his head in excitement. While nothing was official Rey seemed to be D-O’s favourite human, ever since she fixed his squeaky wheel.

“Wonderful. But D-O, this is a secret mission.” Well in a way it was a secret, at least for the next minute. “We need to take off and get out the hangar door as quickly as possible.”

“ _Okay,_ ” And before Rey could stop him, D-O’s interface extension plugged itself into the Falcon’s port and the ship started coming to life.

“That’s _not_ what I _meant_.” Rey jumped into the captain’s chair, grabbing the controls while D-O seemed to handle all of the ancillary operations. 

She could sense the confusion of the guards as they accelerated over the other ships. The blast doors started to close, but they were nowhere near fast enough to stop the Falcon from soaring through.

She was lining up her jump to hyperspace when the com popped to life. “ _Rey? Rey, is that you?_ ” Rose’s voice came through clearly. Somehow Rey was not surprised that Rose was already aware of the situation.

Rey took her hand off the accelerator and opened the channel. “Rose, I’m sorry. I know you told me ‘no’, but I have to do this.” The report of Kylo Ren’s capture had come late yesterday evening, and Rey had begged Rose to take a squad to go after him.

The com was quiet for a long time. “ _I understand, Rey. May the Force be with you._ ”

And with that, Rey engaged the hyperdrive. As she left her friends behind she wondered — not for the first time — if she was making a mistake. 

* * *

Rey sits in the freezing hangar bay, staring at the Falcon from what she thinks might be a safe distance. If proximity was required for him to read her thoughts then could she just stay away from him forever?

She huffs a laugh and it turns to vapour in front of her eyes.

Probably not until they get off this frozen rock of a planet. If the solar cells were working well enough maybe she _could_ keep the cockpit heated and sleep there. She wonders if she can manage the repairs along before they starve. 

If they did get off the planet, she could leave him at a Resistance base, and after the war — if there is an after — perhaps she could find some tiny rock at the edge of the galaxy to live on. If she’s lucky she’d never have to see him again.

Again she’s struck by the thought of her half frozen body pushing against his for warmth, the thought of strong hands running over her torso. She buries her face in her hands. _How embarrassing_. She feels like such a fool. And now she doesn’t know if she should keep her walls up — letting him keep his advantage — or drop them and having even less protection.

Maybe she should have told Luke about the… connection, the bond, the whatever-it-is that they have. Maybe Luke would have known what it was or what it meant. Or maybe not. Nothing in her collection of Jedi texts had helped her to explain it.

Rey sighs and looks at the Falcon. She really should start working on the repairs. The revelations of the morning didn’t mean that she couldn’t work, and yet she couldn’t muster up the desire to take a single step closer towards it (or was the issue not the ship?). Maybe it would be helpful to have Luke here now. He could tell her that her wounded pride is hindering their escape. 

She huffs a smile. _Their_ escape. At some point she’d stopped thinking about _her_ and _hers_ , and had changed to thinking about _them_ and _theirs_. It felt so natural, so… not lonely. And for a moment she lets herself think again about the feeling that came with being held. 

She sighs again. Such a fool.

Well — she stands and dusts off her gloves — time for the fool to get back to work. 

But she’s only taken a single step back towards the Falcon when she hears it again. The whisper.

She holds her breath and tilts her head. It was coming again from the back of the cave for sure again. It beckons to her, but what is it offering? What did it want to show her? She takes a few steps towards it. If she can just get closer… 

The sound starts to recede. _No_.

She looks back at the Falcon. She knows he wouldn’t want her to go, but what if this was important? 

She takes one more look between the back of the hangar and the Falcon before she starts making her way to the tunnels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments and questions are welcome below.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monday's almost over.  
> Hope you guys are doing okay out there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _He’s floating again in the void. The cold and the darkness._

_The cold and the darkness are all he knows..—_

No, _he thinks._

_There was something else before. A light, glimmering in the dark._

_There it is again, drawing closer._

_The light is a feeling now, something he can hold; something to remind him that he has a body because he can feel it pressing against him. He feels so calm when the light embraces him._

_But the light is moving now, away from him. It’s_ dimming _and panic is rising within him. The light is—_

He wakes suddenly, heart racing. He blinks. Blurrily he can make out the crew quarters. He blinks again to try to clear his vision further, but it doesn’t change. He can roughly make out the layout of the room — he can see that she’s not here with him — but not much more. 

He must have drifted off; he hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He’d forgotten about the _dreams_ he’d had while frozen in carbonite; dreams of a consuming darkness interrupted only by a glimmering light. There was something familiar about the light… 

Had that been Rey? The light? he thinks suddenly. Had she tracked him across the galaxy not through intelligence reports but through… whatever this thing was that connected them? Had she lowered her walls and reached out so she might find him?

He frowns. 

And now he’s betrayed her trust by not telling her that the bond, though blocked, was still sending him glimpses of her. He’d considered telling her — earlier — but never had, afraid she would find some way to improve her wards, to shut him out further. He’d been afraid of the rejection and now… _now_ he knows what it’s like to hold her in his arms. _Now_ he knows what she smells like up close, what she feels like. 

And now she wants nothing to do with him. That’s been the case for a while, but _now_ ( _when he wants to be with her all the more_ ) she wants to be with him all the less.

He deserves it, he supposes; being alone.

And that word, _alone_ , reminds him of the end of his dream. Of the light moving away and dimming. _That_ hadn’t been in his dreams before. Just this one.

He sits bolt upright on the edge of the bunk.

When she’d stormed out, leaving him in the crew quarters, he’d still followed her movements in the Force. Yes, that was just continuing to take advantage of this deficiency in her blockade, but after finding her half frozen the night before he couldn’t bear the thought of her running off and doing something reckless. 

He’d sat on his bunk, struggling to follow her movements as she strode down the boarding ramp and into the hangar. He was relieved when she stopped at the hangar’s edge. He could barely see her at that distance; it was like trying to peer between many layers of shifting curtains and he had to concentrate just to catch the occasional glimpse. 

He’d watched her like that for a long time, but then fatigue started to catch up to him. He had only meant to lie down in order to conserve strength, but he must have nodded off. He’d barely slept the night before, first waiting for her body to warm, and then trying to find a moment to extract his arm so he could go back to his own bunk. Of course he’d fallen asleep accidentally then too. 

And then he’d dreamed of her. He’d dreamed of holding her, pressing his chest to her back and wrapping his hands around her front; he dreamed of hearing her moan as he cupped her breasts and kissed her neck. And then he’d awoken to his raging erection pressed against her backside.

Somehow, he extricated himself without waking her, but he still had quite the _problem_ to deal with, which is how he ended up in the sonic that morning.

What a fucking disaster he was, he’d thought earlier.

But right now the only thing he is is worried; because something feels _missing, like_ there’s a hole running right through him. 

He tries to steady his breathing as he takes a deep breath and peers through the ship. No, she’s not aboard. He looks to where she was last sitting. No, not there either. He sweeps his awareness underneath the Falcon — no — and then on top — no. 

He fumbles his hand around the compartment next to his bunk until he finds the com-piece. “Rey? Rey, are you there? _Rey._ ”

He closes his eyes once more and searches the ship again, inside and out, and then struggles to _see_ the other parts of the hangar. 

_No, no, no. She’s not_ here _. But…_

And then he’s stumbling off of his bunk, heart pounding. He grabs his boots and the large cold-weather jacket from the floor as he heads for the door. 

_No, no, no, nononononono!_

He’s running then — down the corridor — the curved interior blurring past him. 

He knows where she’s gone, and the thought of the dimming light makes him run all the faster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure when tomorrow's post(s) will go up, but by the end of the day there will be at least one.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this is still okay. I know that this is a lot more plot-y and a lot less UST-y. Trust me, we are approaching a resolution very soon.
> 
> CW: this is where we earn this canon-typical violence and blood & gore tags.

The large ice tunnel seems to glow blue in the light of Rey’s saber. 

She’s not quite sure how long she’s been walking. At first the whispering voices had led Rey through the old Rebel base, through tunnels that had been dug out of the ice and snow. But then she’d come to a tall rectangular door, forced open long ago, and on the other side the tunnels seemed naturally occuring. They curved smoothly, left then right, as if she was traversing the bowels of some great beast, leading deeper into the glacier. She would have turned back had whispers not kept taunting her with their secrets. 

She wishes she could com back to D-O — to check on _his_ status — but the ice and rock are too thick to get a signal.

She’s starting to wonder if the tunnel will ever end when it finally opens into a large chamber. The light from her saber struggles to penetrate deeper into the chamber, but from what she can see the walls are the same jagged ice and snow of the tunnels.

She can feel the pull of this place. The whispers tease at her ears again, growing in intensity and yet just as indecipherable. As she walks deeper into the cave, her light reveals more and more. Her eyes scan into the receding dark, searching for— _there_.

Ahead, the floor of the cave drops away but before the precipice stands what has summoned her. A large rectangular rock — similar in size and shape to the stone on the cliffs of Ahch-to — only this one is black, like obsidian. 

She moves cautiously towards the stone, and with each step the fervor of the whispering voices grows. What will it show her? A secret about her? About _him_? Will it show her her friends? Palpatine? Or will it simply taunt her about her parents? 

As she approaches the whispers are nearly howling. Her eyes travel along the stone’s edges. Should she touch it? Should she meditate? As she draws near she drops her gloves in the snow. She holds her saber with one hand, and with the other she reaches out to the whispering stone — the voices hitting a crescendo — and on touching it they silent. She takes a deep breath and— 

— nothing.

Nothing happens, if you discount that Rey’s hand starts to feel cold against the stone.

She stares at it, trying to decide what to do next when her eyes catch a flicker of movement in the darkness past the precipice. 

It isn’t a gorge as she thought. There’s an icy plateau below her, dotted with a few lumpy piles of snow. Only — she realizes as they start to move — they’re not piles of snow.

They’re wampas, and they’re waking up.

Rey spins, planning to sprint to the exit, only to have to roll to the side as a giant claw swipes at her. One of the damn things is already behind her.

She flips away from the stone, dodging another swat, her lightsaber humming. It kept itself between her and the exit; apparently a simple retreat was not not going to be possible.

The wampa rushes her again. It slashes and howls as her saber takes its arm. Knowing it will die from the wound she spins, slashing its throat to shorten its suffering, and it collapses to the ground.

Again she tries to run for the entrance, but two more wampas have already blocked the way. 

As they circle around her, she feels a tug at her left hip. It’s _his_ saber, calling to her, asking her to draw it. It can help her, protect her, keep her safe— 

_No_. She won’t heed its call. She has no desire to see the red blade, to be reminded of the path he’s chosen. Joining the Resistance hasn’t changed _that_. 

The smaller wampa on the left lunges and she backflips, up onto the black stone.

The huge one on the right swipes, but a moment too late. She flips over its head, slicing down its back as she lands. It howls and spins. She ducks it’s raking claw, catching it across the gut with her second strike. It’s still stumbling towards her, claws raking. She summons the Force to nudge it off the precipice, and she turns to the other as it rushes her. 

She won’t clear the beast if she jumps — not with its height advantage — so this one too she’s forced to delimb. Blood sprays hot against her face, quickly cooling in the frigid air. She ends this one as she did the first — a quick slash across the neck to put it out of its misery.

Rey breathes heavily, as it drops to the ground.

The room is still again. Blood covers her fingers and trickles down her neck. She feels hot and sweaty under her winter-gear, but she knows she’ll soon feel cold as the blood evaporates off her clothing. 

She looks to the stone, which sits unapologetically quiet, and closes her eyes for a moment. Such a fool she was, coming here.

She wipes her hands off as best as she can and is just picking up her gloves when she pauses. 

Footsteps. From the way she came. Just one pair. But they’re quicker than the lumbering pace of a wampa.

“ _REY!?!_ ” _his_ voice comes echoing into the chamber. 

“Ben?!” She’s trotting back to the tunnel when she sees him emerge into the chamber, a lantern held in one hand. “Ben!” And then she sees another lumpy snowpile, starting to stand just off to his side. “ _Ben!”_

Time slows for Rey.

She’s too far away to run to him. 

The Force is too finicky to be useful at this distance. 

She knows she can’t simply throw her saber to him — he cannot see it or sense it with the Force. 

So for Rey there’s only one option. 

She deactivates her saber as she throws it, and then she does the one thing she thought she’d never do again. She drops her walls and reaches out. 

The bond snaps between them instantly. She feels his shock when it does so. She feels his sudden recognition of the wampa creeping up beside him. She feels him _feel_ the saber as it arcs through the air, as his hand grips it, and as the blade comes to life in a whirling arc. She feels the wampa die as the saber takes its head.

The lantern lands with a thud as his feet, and he dodges back as the wampas body crashes to the ground a moment later.

She feels his ragged breathing as he turns to look at her, and relief floods her body. 

But then his eyes widen, and she senses the lifeform behind her.

“ _REY!_ ”

From atop the obsidian stone the beast — the one with wounds down its back and across its gut — jumps down onto her. 

There’s a flash of light, and then all goes dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg cliffhanger. Sorry! (would still love to hear any comments)
> 
> * * *
> 
> In case you wanted to know, the wampa tunnels in this chapter are loosely based off this [Forces of Destiny](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o3II-zqUe6M) episode, where Leia travels down into them (just before Empire) to rescue Chewy. I'd love to imagine that, as Ben descended through the tunnels, at times he was guided by a certain motherly presence.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoping this works.

The moment Rey opened the bond he could suddenly _see_ everything — the cavern, the wampa, the lightsaber — all picked out in scintillating starlight. 

It had been the same when she had helped him to _see_ the Falcon’s controls. And just as at that time, while the other things around him shone in the Force, Rey blazed. She glowed with the strength of her power and her goodness. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen — but that had been true for a while now.

Perhaps it was the brightness of _her_ that made it difficult to see the second wampa until it was jumping at her from behind from atop a stone which seemed only capable of pulling light from the room.

And, as the wampa collapsed onto her, all the starlight vanished.

“ _REY!_ ” He’s running, now, across the cavern’s upper plateau, silver lightsaber in hand. 

He can still feel her — still see her buried beneath the wampa — but barely, like her the light in her is dimming. 

“ _Rey_!” He tosses his grandfather’s saber aside and hears the blade fizzle out. Only the faintest light from the lantern reaches this far. 

The wampa is enormous. Its arm weighs as much as he does and he struggles to get underneath it. On his knees he heaves upwards, muscles straining. The beast starts to lift and he gets to his feet. One big heave to its chest and it rolls aside, the dark hole in its chest still smoking and smoldering. 

At his feet Rey lies limp, eyes closed. He drops to the ground and cradles her to him. “Rey. _Rey!_ ” Without hesitation he runs his hand along the side of her face and the connection becomes clearer. Her eyes flutter and she shifts. 

He searches her body with his mind, and on finding no major injuries he breathes a sigh of relief. She would be okay.

With greatest care — and greater regret — he lies her back on the ground and starts to pull his hand away—

—only to have hers land on his to hold it there. 

“Ben,” she whispers, and when he looks again her eyes have opened. 

He swallows, unsure. “Rey.”

“Ben—” The name no one else uses. “—why didn’t you tell me?” Thoughts and emotions jumble across the bond, too fast for him to follow. 

“What do you mean?”

She turns to look at her other hand sprawled to the side, still holding his saber-hilt. Her thumb flicks the trigger and three blades — one long, two short — fill the cavern with their blinding white light. 

She lets the beams hum for a long moment before deactivating the blade. She’s smiling when she looks at him again. “Ben, you could have told me.”

“I—” He looks at the saber so he doesn’t have to meet her eyes. “No, it’s a mistake,” he admits.

“What?” 

“I—” 

But then she’s sitting up, and turning his head towards her, and laying her hands on either side of his face. “Show me… Please.”

* * *

It had been three days since General Organa’s death. 

They were already an hour into the day’s tactical briefing and he felt completely numb as Hux droned on. At least he had his helmet back so the others wouldn’t notice his lack of attention. A few more minutes and he could return to the solitude of his quart— 

“ _What was that_?” he asked suddenly.

Hux hid his annoyance well. “Ah, as I was saying, the Sixth Fleet will be positioned later today so that we can take back Arkanis—”

“ _No_.” _She_ had been there, the reports said. _She_ had taken Arkanis. 

“Ah, Supreme Leader, the tactical importance of Arkanis cannot be understated, especially in the wake of General Or—”

“ _I said, ‘no,’ Hux!”_ He slammed his fist into the table.“ _Everyone knows Arkanis is also your homeworld. The Emperor will not tolerate his armada being used for personal interests.”_ It was a half truth. Arkanis _was_ Hux’s homeworld, but he knew that it held no sentiment for the general; however, the others at the table didn’t.

The redhead pasted on a smile to cover his ire. “Supreme Leader, I assure you, this has nothing to do with my homeworld and everything to do with— _aarkt._ ” The red-headed man grabbed at his throat, his face turning a reddish-purple before he was finally allowed to collapse to the table. “ _Of course, Supreme Leader, as you command_ ,” he said with a raspy voice. 

“ _Meeting dismissed._ ” His cape swished behind him as he strode from the room.

Back in his chambers he stared out the window, thinking the exchange over. In the past, nearly killing Hux had always brought him the thrill of power, but today it had just been a means to an end. A way to let her keep the planet she’d fought for; the one that the Resistance so desperately needed. He frowned.

He’d felt off. For the last three days to be precise.

Maybe he just needed to destroy something, smash something. He looked around his sterile room. His wall had been repaired (he hadn’t used his saber since). It should do the trick; destroying something always made him feel more powerful.

He removed his helmet, unclasped his cloak and stood before the wall. But instead of the addictive rage that usually preceded hacking something to pieces, he simply felt _nothing_ as he grasped his saber-hilt.

No, this _should_ make him feel better, he told himself again.

He hit the trigger and almost dropped the saber when he saw the blade.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to be a zombie tomorrow, but you guys are worth it.

“Ben…” she smiles.

His eyes hover on her shoulder, his mouth a tight line. 

“Ben…” Gently, she coaxes his face back towards hers. “Ben, you could have told me.”

His eyes meet hers only for the briefest moment. “Told you what? I don’t even know how it happened.”

Her smile deepens in spite of him. “This changes things Ben.”

He gives a dismissive huff. “Do you think I joined the Resistance because I wanted to? Because I had a change of heart? I _ran away_ , Rey. They would have _killed_ me if they’d found out.” His voice had risen, echoing around the cavern. “I had nowhere else to go.” He grasps her forearms gently and pulls her hands away. “I’m a coward,” he whispers.

The connection dims as her fingers leave his skin, but with no walls in the way she can still feel him. “And yet for the last several months you’ve been doing nothing but the most dangerous missions for the Resistance. So as for you being a coward, I’ll be my own judge.”

Something akin to a laugh escapes in a huff through his nose as he stares into the darkness of the cave. “Does it matter? I’m useless now.” She feels the loss — of his vision and the Force — stinging in his chest.

And she does the thing that feels most natural. She reaches out — not with the Force, or with the bond — but with her hand landing on his, and the connection strengthens again. 

Without meaning to she sees it then; his plan. That if he can’t have her as Palpatine promised, that if she still wants nothing to do with him (as he believed when she kept up her walls at the Resistance Council meeting), that he would at least _try_ to remove as many threats against her as can before he dies. And then she sees his hopelessness that now he can’t even do that. 

It all flashes across to her in an instant and she forces her mind to be still (perhaps resisting thoughts like _‘foolish boy with a hero complex’_ ). “Ben…” His name echoes, though she’d said it softly. It’s only when it fades that he looks back to her with his dark uncertain eyes. “You’re not to me.” He barely moves as she leans up and places her lips against his. 

Rey has never kissed anyone before, so her skin buzzes where they touch and she feels the urge to press into him. But the added contact means that their connection is stronger and his confusion rings clearly across the bond… for a moment, and then it vaporizes with the rising heat of his desire. 

His arms — which had been so stiff a moment ago — come alive and pull her closer as her fingers rake through his hair. Their lips and tongues and breath are hurried, as he lifts her onto his lap and the bond sparks at their nearness. 

Their kisses are wet and sloppy and noisy and needy. They kiss for ages, or they would have if they weren’t sitting in a freezing cavern covered in wampa blood. Their kisses wind down as they pant into each other’s mouths. She can feel his smiling against her face. 

When she opens her eyes he’s already looking at her.

“Ben?”

“Yes?” He _did_ like her calling him that; she could tell now.

“Let’s go home.”

His mind stumbles for a half a moment at the implication. “Didn’t you come down here for something?” he says, and she sees the black stone in his mind. 

She smiles and places a small kiss on his lips. _I’ve already found it._

****

* * *

_Somehow_ they manage to keep their hands off each other until they get back inside the Falcon. 

“Mm, I’m still disgusting,” she says as he kisses her in the corridor. 

“I don’t care,” he says as he peels her jacket down her arms. 

* * *

“ _Blood! Blood! Blood!_ ” the little droid — just outside the crew quarters — wails at the articles of blood-soaked clothing strewn along the corridor. 

“Sorry D-O. Can you wash those?” she says as Ben presses her against the refresher door. 

“And then guard the door. Don’t let anyone disturb us,” Ben instructs as he nudges his thigh between her legs, making her sigh.

“It’s ah— a very important assignment, D-O. Can you do that for us?”

“ _Afirma—_ ” The door slams shut, and they both remove their hands from the door control. 

* * *

She’s sat him down on a crate in the middle of the room. “So you’ve been able to see me this whole time?” she asks as she slowly unfastens her sash. 

“Well, it’s not like I could see _everything_ ,” he answers with a playful defensiveness. 

“Oh,” she says, as she drops the end of her sash and then her trousers, and continues to discard clothing as she walks to the sonic. Wearing just her underclothes and breast band she hangs out of the door to look at him with a cocked eyebrow. “Well did you want to?” she asks before she disappears inside. 

Ben blinks only once before he scrambles to his feet, trying not to trip as he attempts to undress and walk at the same time.

* * *

“I’m not sure this sonic was designed for two people,” he says as he slides in behind her, his eyes roving the curve of her hips. 

She turns around, letting her eyes wander down and up his torso. “If it can fit a wookie I’m sure we’ll manage.”

The hands and lips find each other as the the sonic jets scrub wampa blood — both dry and wet — down their skin to the collector on the floor. 

* * *

“Fuck,” he breathes into her neck as she wraps a hand around him. 

“Maybe—” She sighs as he pinches one of her nipples. “—we should move this back to the bunks. I hear that wetness is beneficial, and being in the sonic might be counterproductive.”

His body pauses. “You haven’t done this before,” he says, not as a question. 

“No, is that a prob— _ahh_ ,” she squeaks as he lifts her over his shoulder and carries her out of the sonic. 

* * *

After extending the bunk he sets her on its edge, gathering the blankets in a pile behind her. He pulls the crate over so he can sit in front of her, his mouth at the level of her thighs. “Try to relax,” he says, as he eases her legs over his shoulders. “This is supposed to feel good.” 

She cocks an eyebrow. “You haven’t done this before?”

His cheeks colour slightly. “Not this part.” She feels him there, on the other side of the bond like he’s standing on the other side of an open door; it’s like they’d drifted back apart slightly on the walk back to the Falcon. She reaches out and pulls him through and she feels him smile as he lowers his lips to her. 

* * *

She pants as she cards her fingers through his hair. She can feel his lips and tongue on her sex. She can feel his hands gripping her thighs. But she can also _feel_ him feeling her, and she can feel the _other_ parts of him shifting and twitching. 

_More, Ben._ She didn’t have any trouble with his name now.

 _Patience,_ he thinks, but he doesn’t just leave her there, unfulfilled. He moves a hand to her wet folds and plies his fingers back and forth, and slowly easing one finger inside. She can feel being entered — being filled — but can also feel being surrounded by something both soft and wet and tight. They both groan. 

Of course his fingers are _much_ wider than hers, but a single one easily finds accommodation. He works it in and out of her as he lavs at her clit. 

_Rey, if you want_ — and suddenly he’s sending her the impression of his her hand on his cock in the sonic, of how her fingers barely fit around him — _then_ — and then he’s sending her a blurry image of adding another finger, of stretching her —

 _Yes,_ she answers instantly. If you can gasp in your mind she does. _Yes, I want that._ And she sends him thoughts of running her fingers up and around him, of guiding him to her cunt—

“ _Fuck_ ,” he hisses against her. He moves his mouth over her, his tongue running up and down to either side of his finger. He brings a second to her entrance and slowly he starts to press it in. 

It’s _much_ tighter than the first, and he barely has the tip in when he pauses. 

_No, don’t stop_. They needed to do this or he would _never_ fit. _Touch yourself_ , she thinks and she feels him still on the other side of the bond. _Touch yourself for me_. And she sends him thoughts of his erection again, only this time with his own hand pumping up and down as she watches. 

His needy exhalation blows cool air over her labia. Slowly he releases her thigh and brings his hand to curl around his tip. She watches through his mind as he strokes down — herself growing wetter — when she realizes _it’s the wrong hand_. 

_Do you want to switch?_ she asks, imaging his hands in the reverse position.

 _No,_ he smiles. _This is better,_ and he makes his point curling the finger inside her forward. 

Rey closes her eyes at the building energy swirling deep in her pelvis. Her mouth has falls open with a sigh and floats in the mild bliss of it until he lessens the pressure. Well… two can play at that game. 

She extends her mind to wrap around his _other_ hand — _Good_ — and she prompts him to stroke up and down. 

She can feel herself relax as his pleasure heightens, her muscles loosening. _More_ , she thinks, nudging at his _good_ hand — the second finger on his good hand — to resume its advance. 

His _other_ hand slows and he starts pressing into her.

 _You don’t have to stop,_ she thinks, noting the hand he has on himself.

 _No. I do,_ he thinks. She _thinks_ she can feel the start of a mischievous smile on his lips, but then he starts to sucking on her, and fucking her with his finger, and she spirals with the pleasure of it. 

He sets her one foot on his shoulder to change the angle of her hips, and suddenly there is a tiny bit more space inside her. He advances — with his second finger — in the tiniest increments. Apparently two of him requires more space than three of her (and on having that thought, Rey decides to send him that image, and he nearly chokes). 

Finally — _finally_ — he has two fingers fully seated in her. The stretch is exquisite and she’s about to demand that they move on when he draws them out and in. She can feel when his knuckles pass through the tightest spots, stretching her further. He starts pumping in and out slowly, slowly rotating his hand so the angle is constantly changing. 

He’s pumping himself again, she realizes, his hands moving in concert with each other. 

Her hands, too, have become busy, cupping her breasts and pinching at her nipples. She flashes him the memory of her dream and he groans. 

He can’t take much more of this. The thought comes across not so much in words as to what will inevitably happen if he does. She glimpses a few dozen of his past orgasms and feels herself getting even wetter. She’s about to ask, _Now?_ when he rights his good hand, still inside her and cocks two fingers forward against her front wall, as he dives knuckle deep into her. He sucks again and her orgasm crashes into her, her legs slamming around his head. 

He licks her through the waves, her hands now curled tight in his hair. 

She’s a panting mess but she _needs_ him. _Ben_. She needs him inside her right now. 

He’s on his feet then and she half sits so she can reach for him. He’s burning hot against her palm as her fingers close around him. 

His eyes meet hers and there’s a sudden moment of panic in him, about what they’re about to do— and its consequences. 

She almost giggles at his reaction, before flashing to him the memory of her last contraceptive shot with a Resistance med-droid. It was practically standard issue for anyone not seeking pregnancy. 

“Oh,” he says, surprised. Of course he _knows_ that the Resistance does that, but somehow it had never occurred to him that it would apply to _Rey_. 

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “And why not?”

 _Because… I could never imagine anyone else being with you_ , he admits sheepishly. 

She sits up more so she can kiss him. _Well aren’t you lucky_. She smiles. _Now, be with me._

She scoots back on the pallet and lays down properly, shoving the pile of blankets off to the side. She’s aware of different positions that they might do this in, but her body feels so loose that she’d rather just lie down. He climbs up over, muscles rippling under his skin, and he positions himself at her entrance.

He pauses, just looking down at her. 

She cocks her head. _What?_

He leans in, his weight comforting on top of her. _This_. His lips meet hers in the gentlest of kisses. Her eyes slide shut and she explores his face and ears with her fingers. 

His hips move forward and she can feel him curve slightly. He’s gone a _tiny_ bit soft.

 _Should I…_ She thinks again of her hand on him in the shower.

He shakes his head. _It’s still going to be tight, this will be better._ Her impression is that he’s dead serious so she returns her attention to his lips… which gives her an idea. 

His tongue clashes with hers and she taunts it deeper. When it follows she sucks on it until he groans. As she eases on the suction she tilts her hips up to him, trying to get more than just his tip to work inside her. She sets up a rhythm between her hips and her mouth, always one urging him deeper. _Ben_ , she thinks and she can feel him wrap the name around himself. 

On the next downstroke of her hips he edges forward — so that he stays cupped by her entrance — and her next push upward his head nudges inside. They both groan, lips still locked. 

Her hips rock down and up again, causing her to pull away and push onto him. _More Ben_ , she thinks and he obliges, chasing her with her next rock so that she can press over him just the tiniest bit further. _More_. He’s barely in her and she can already feel the enormous stretch. 

It’s not a problem of lubrication — between them they are soaking — but simply one of size. Even semi-hard, her entrance is pulled taut around him. And he _knows_.

 _Are you okay? We can stop._ She opens her eyes to find him looking at her with concern. 

_Don’t stop._ But he’s right; it’s so tight. Her body needs time to adjust. _I just need a distraction_. He looks at her confused, until she moves one of his hands to her breast. His eyes burn dark and the corner of his mouth quirks as he kneads her breast and lightly pinches her nipple. Her head lolls back, and she giggles as he attacks the spot under her ear with his mouth. 

He keeps up these new assaults, making her laugh one moment and moan the next. But throughout he maintains his third attack, a steady pressure with his hips. Even times she jolts or jostles, he seems to press a little deeper. When she feels the twinge of a stretch he’s quick to lessen the pressure and distract her with a nibble of her earlobe or squeezing of her breast. 

Skin to skin, she can feel his heart beating in his chest, and it soothes the ache that had been in hers. 

At half way he starts to rock into her lightly. She feels so full, even after he bends up her knees to try to make more room. He pushes in a bit further and then she feels a different stretch, a complaint of length — not girth — and she realizes that _he’s not even all in._ Her eyes fly open and nips at the ear that she conveniently finds nearby. 

He pulls back enough to eye her questioningly. 

Without breaking his gaze she smiles and leans up to plant a soft kiss on his lips. She feels him hesitate then; it’s even written across his eyes. _Ben_. Experimentally her hands wander down his chest to his sides and she holds him as she rolls her hips. He rests himself on his elbows. She nods and when he gives a tiny thrust she feels his pleasure ripple across the bond. 

She clutches him tightly to her, but then he’s pulling away before sinking back in. Her eyes have closed again, her breathing turned to panting. Her fingers are twisted in his hair once again and all she wants is, _More_. He adjusts his angle so he can pull further back. He sets up a steady rhythm that leaves her small breasts bouncing back and forth. She pulls tighter on his hair as he sucks again on her neck. He leans to one side and suddenly his thumb has found her clit again.

His hips are pounding relentlessly now. He must be deeper now than a minute ago but he still can’t all fit, and yet he somehow has perfect control to never go too deep.

She feels a swirl starts to build again, coiling in her hips and pelvis, encircling him as he fills her over and over. She can feel him holding on as his hips start to stutter. The tight circles he’s rubbing onto her quicken before he presses on her firmly. _Rey, come for me_. And it’s like he’s tipped her over the edge of a cliff as she spirals and shatters and a moment later his pleasure echoes her. The Force thrums through them as they tense — together — and collapse in a sweaty heap. 

Rey’s breaths are deep and spaced as she stares at the ceiling. The moment his body starts to feel too heavy he slides himself out and shifts to lie beside her. A cold line of uncertainty runs again through his thoughts as he looks at her with a crease between his eyebrows. 

“Shhhh,” she whispers, and plants a kiss on his forehead. _It’s going to be fine_. 

He wraps an arm around her and huddles close to her side. _Rey… I…_

 _“Shhhh,”_ she repeats. _I know._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PSA: Guys, there are no STIs in this fantasy galaxy. If you find yourself about to bang the dark space prince of your dreams please protect yourself. ;)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Miranda,  
> Happy reveal day! This has turned into such a fun and wonderful experience. I do hope you enjoyed the fic as much as I did. Thank you for the wonderful prompts that got this started, and thank you for such generous comments going through.  
> Your RFFA 2020 friend,  
> \- DarkSideOfMe
> 
> FYI - it's mixed POV montage chapter.
> 
> Also, there are no STIs in this space-fantasy galaxy, and therefore no space-condoms. Please remember to be safe the next time you are faced with sexy-time adventures with your dark space-prince wizard.

“Hm.” He suppresses a cough. “It’s umm… delicious,” he says as he examines Rey’s wampa stew.

Rey gestures at the room around her. “I have _nothing_ to cook with.” With the bond open he can _see_ the nearly empty shelves of the cramped mess. “I’d like to see _you_ do better.”

A mischievous smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. “And what do I get if I win?”

* * *

“ _Ah, ah, ah, ah_ …” she moans into the blankets as he fills her from behind, with a pounding rhythm. He reaches around to rub between her legs, and Rey is suddenly very glad she’s the worst cook in the Resistance.

* * *

In the hangar, they lower the cracked hull-panel to the ground. 

“Are you sure you can patch that?” he asks. “The likelihood of it maintaining structural integrity during the jum—”

She interrupts him with a kiss. “Never tell me the odds,” she says, and he laughs as he pulls her closer.

* * *

They sit cross-legged, facing each other on the floor of the crew quarters.

“Breathe.” His voice is soothing and deep. “Follow the breath entering and leaving your body.” 

It’s been a long time since Rey’s meditated so deeply, a thought she quickly dismisses.

“Good. Now, expand your awareness to me…”

* * *

Rey is very aware of him. His length. His girth. His texture. She’s _been_ very aware of him for the last several minutes and she doesn’t think he’ll last much longer.

She can feel him fighting the urge to thrust into her as he watches.

She meets his eyes and _sucks_ , and suddenly she’s very aware of his moan and the hot tang running down her throat.

* * *

Rey hangs upside down from the fuselage, badly in need of a sub-loop spanner. “No, that, one. No. No. _No._ Look where I’m pointing.”

* * *

His wampa stew is getting better, Rey decides as they eat at the dejarik table. “I thought it’s supposed to be like pouring water from one vessel to another.”

“No, no. It’s like…” He struggles for the words. “It’s like asking the Force to rearrange itself. The energy doesn’t come from the wielder. It comes from the entire galaxy. It should never hurt the wielder.”

* * *

“Why do we have to sit in _this_ chair?” he asks.

Rey looks over to the captain’s chair. “Because that’s my chair.” And further discussion is put on hold as she straddles his hips and slides down onto him. 

* * *

He lies on the crew cabin floor and Rey sits above his head, hands resting over his temples. 

She exhales and finally opens her eyes. “Do… do you feel any different?”

He sits up, and rubs his eyes, squinting at the room around him. “I’m not sure yet.”

* * *

“Using the sonic at the same time is _efficient_ ,” he pouts.

“Not if we spend _five_ times as long in it,” she says, naked and half-way through the door. 

“But—”

“Oh for crying in the desert.” She strides over to him and pulls him back into the bunk.

* * *

Rey stares at the recipe he’d written out by hand. She’d offered to cook when it seemed that his vision was markedly better this morning. “So what’s so special about cooking something a on low heat for a long time? Why not hot and short?” It had always worked for her in the past.

“Rey…” he says from his seat behind her.

“And why do all of these measurements specify _level_ spoonfuls of spice?” Isn’t _more_ always better when it comes to food?

“ _Rey_ …” 

She turns to him— 

—and loses her train of thought when she sees the ceramic bowl hovering in the air in front of him. It starts to falter, and Rey just barely catches it with the Force as she runs to wrap her arms around him. “You did it; that was so good.” She can sense he doesn’t agree, but a moment later she’s straddling his lap and his protests cease with her kisses. 

The wampa stew is only remembered when it starts to burn.

* * *

“Are you sure you want to do this?” she asks again. “The ground’s quite uneven.”

“It’s good practice.”

“Alright. Whatever you say.” The blue saber ignites just a moment before the white one.

* * *

He’s kissing up her thigh when he stops suddenly. 

She looks down. “Is something wrong?”

He takes her right leg and lifts it over his head or so he can look at her outer thigh. “Is _this_ from that bounty hunter?” She can feel his anger start to swirl as he regards her half-healed wound.

“Ah…” She’s trying to decide how best to answer and not having him go ballistic on the furniture when he lays his hands on either side of her thigh and suddenly his mind goes still. She watches as the Force gathers and spins between his hands and then returns to the universe. 

She smiles as she bends and twists her leg back forth. “Oh that feels wonderful.” 

He shifts her leg back over his head so he’s between them again. “Well, if you think that was good…” and he lays his hands to either side of her sex.

* * *

Rey’s been repairing the com disk for several hours, when she hears him call her. 

_Rey_ … 

She sits up, and realizes that he’s no longer working on the engine’s power feed. _Where are you?_ She can sense him not far off, in the Rebel base.

 _Come here,_ is his only reply.

She rolls her eyes as she climbs down the Falcon and starts walking in his direction. She finds herself in a hallway with small storage rooms carved into the ice on either side. When she turns into the last one and her jaw drops. His clothes — all of them — are neated piled by the wall, and Ben — naked — stands chest deep in a steaming pit of water.

He smiles. “I think I’ve found a way for us to save power.”

“How..?” She’s still gaping when she notices his saber lying beside the pool. “I’m pretty sure that’s considered a misuse of one’s weapon.”

“Not when it helps you survive on a frozen planet.” He tries to give her the most innocent pleading look. 

She sighs, but then starts to undress with a smile. 

* * *

He kneels on the cockpit’s floor. _So we’re allowed to use the captain’s chair for_ this _?_ he asks, mouth occupied.

“ _Yes_ ,” she pants, though it’s not quite clear if she’s answering his question, or simply reacting to ministrations of his tongue and fingers. 

* * *

He’s reading an engine manual on his bunk when he hears the door to the crew quarters open. 

“Ben?” When he looks up she’s holding a cloth bag in both hands. “I… wanted to give these back to you. They’re yours and you should decide what happens to them.”

Still confused, he pulls himself up and they both sit on the edge of the bunk. Her hands seem clumsy as she pulls the drawstring and grabs the top of the bag. Something in his gut turns to ice as the edges of the bag fall to the sides and he can see the top of a familiar black and red helmet.

She lifts it from the bag and passes it to him. His eyes skate across the lines. It looks so unfamiliar now, like it’s from some other life, and yet it’s still a life he must atone for. He sets it to the side; a thought for another day.

He turns back to find her already digging into the bag again, and this time she pulls forth something equally unexpected: a black leather glove, right-handed he realizes as he turns it over.

He turns to Rey and hugs her suddenly, “Thank-you,” he whispers, his eyes pricking. 

For a moment she’s confused, but it turns to understanding when he flashes a vision of Leia’s body encased in glowing blue. She squeezes her arms around him tighter and a tear escapes one of her eyes. “Of course.” 

* * *

Rey examines her last few stitches, small and even from years of having to make her own clothes. The circle of black fabric is now half sewn into his shirt. She really should be done by now, except…

Rey glances up — _again_ — at Ben’s muscular back as he cooks their stew for the evening. She smiles when he reaches half way for a jar of blue pepper and it glides to his hand from its shelf.

“So…” he continues as he shakes the pepper over the pot, “you _had_ been planning to leave me in carbonite until you got me back to the Ajan Kloss.”

She sighs. “Well it’s what the med-droids recommended, so that you could be transferred directly into bacta. Your recovery may have been much swifter.” 

“Hmm,” he mutters, and she can feel his displeasure at the thought of being handed over to the Resistance unconscious.

“I wouldn’t have let them do anything. You had an arrangement.” She tears her eyes away from his back and goes back to her stitching.

“They may have decided to change it given that opportunity.”

“Well, then aren’t you lucky that the bounty-droid shot the carbonite encasement as I was rescuing you, forcing me to open it as soon as I could? I’m sure that almost dying from your previous injury was much preferable to becoming a Resistance prisoner.”

She could feel him smile at the heated sarcasm that had crept into her words, and after he adds the last of the ingredients he kneels on the floor in front of her chair. “Well you have one thing right,” he says.

She sets down her stitching and opens her legs to fit them around his torso. “Oh, what’s that?”

“I’m lucky.” And what starts with kissing, ends with another burnt pot of stew.

* * *

They spoon together on Rey’s bunk, the room lit only by the light of the control panels. His hand runs up her arm, her soft, smooth skin only interrupted by the scar on her upper arm. 

“It’s going to be alright,” she says.

“Hm.”

“They need us.”

“Hm.”

“And after it’s over, we’ll work something out.”

He slides his hand over hers, and gives hers a squeeze. “Rey..?”

“Hm?”

“It’s going to be alright.”

* * *

“Ready?” he asks.

“Are you?” He knows she’s no longer just talking about the Falcon.

“Anti-grav engaged,” he replies. 

Rey lets the ship rise up before steering it towards the cleared hangar door. “Propulsion engines reporting no issues.”

He glances at her sideways. “Let’s take it nice and slow. I hear it’s a tight fit.” And suddenly he can feel the daggers being glared into his skull, so he clears his throat. “Um… sorry.”

He hears a distinct, _Hmph_ , but then her attention turns back to piloting the Falcon through the entrance and out into the wide open sky. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you'd like, come find me on [Twitter (@InaraLock)](https://twitter.com/InaraLock) or [Tumblr (@DarkSideOfMe-Reylo)](https://darksideofme-reylo.tumblr.com/).
> 
> (Note to self: omg. 25k words; this got a little out of hand. I need to write something shorter next year.)
> 
> Epilogue coming 'soon'.


	14. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rose is the best.
> 
> Update: I wasn't really happy with this chapter so it got a re-write about a day after it went up. I'm still not sure if it's _there_ but it's a good as it's going to get.
> 
> One last moodboard.  
> 

_*The Eravana orbits around Coruscant*_

Rose packs away her datapads as Poe calls, “ _Dismissed!_ ” to the crowded command room. Resistance personnelle scatter as she and Poe calmly start heading towards the hangar. 

‘ _Military Generals advance; they don’t run_ ,’ Leia had once said.

Poe leans towards her and lowers his voice. “Rose?”

 _Hm_. She hadn’t been expecting for him to ask so soon; she thought they’d at least get half way down the corridor. At least the corridor is too loud for anyone to overhear them. “No, Poe.”

“But—”

“ _No_.”

“Rose, I’ve been grounded for _months_. If I died now would it even really matter?” 

The first reports of the news had come in mere hours ago; since then Rose had confirmed it through several sources. Palpatine was dead, and the residual hierarchy of the Empire was tearing itself apart.

“Yes, yes it would matter. Because in—” She checks her chrono. “—thirty-three minutes I need you to be standing in the Grand Convention Chamber, reading _this_ speech—” She passes him a datapad. “—so it can be broadcast across the Holo-Net.”

He sighs as he takes the datapad. “Look, I’ll even let Snap and the guys can _escort_ me down there—” 

“No, Poe.”

“But please don’t make me take a _transport_. We need to be strong now. Think of the Holo-Net-cast opening with a shot of me flying over Coruscant…”

She’s already shaking her head. “You are the _leader_ of the Resistance. We need to ensure your safety until order is established.”

“Just one flight, Rose, and then I’ll be a good boy until things settle down.”

Rose sighs as they enter the busy hangar. “Fine. Have the squad accompany you.”

“ _Yesss_ ,” he says with a muted fist-pump. “Thanks Rose.” And with that Poe sprints off towards where the X-wings are docked. _“Guys, change of plans.”_

 _Note to self: start writing Poe’s transition speech immediately._

Rose is just turning towards the transport when a lieutenant comes running over. “Rose, Rose… it’s…” she pants out of breath.

Rose is just putting a hand on the woman’s shoulder to steady her when she hears the familiar engine. She turns and the Falcon is landing in C-dock. 

“Thanks,” says to the lieutenant before she starts to run. She’s just approaching the ship as the boarding ramp drops and a familiar pair of boots starts walking down it.

“Rey!” she shouts. The two women meet at the base of the ramp and embrace each other tightly. “We thought you were— Did you— Rey, you’re alive!” They hadn’t had a transmission from her since before the attack on Ajan Kloss.

The Jedi laughs as they pull back. “We’re alive.”

“We?” _Oh_. Had she been successful in rescuing… 

And just then a large man dressed in a dark shirt, pants and boots walks down the ramp. He has a blaster on one hip, and what looks like a certain ominous lightsaber on the other. She has to crane her neck as he stands behind Rey. He looks… different. He didn’t look like the same man that had interrupted the Poe’s inaugural Council meeting, even after taking his change of clothes into account.

“Oh, hello… K—”

“It’s Ben now,” Rey interrupts. 

Rose blinks. “Oh. Right?”

Remarkable, everyone else in the hangar seems to still be going about their business. Perhaps one or two gives a quick wave to Rey, but they’re too focused on their promised victory to notice who stands beside her. Though why would they? The cloak and helmet are gone, and almost no one outside of the Council knows his face. 

Of course, one other person in the hangar does. Rose catches sight of Poe stalking carefully towards them. 

She turns, and her nerves make her voice a little too quick and cheery. “Poe, you remember Ben, right?”

She can feel the tension build as Poe joins their small circle, the other Resistance personnelle still working away in the background. But maybe Poe can manage _not_ to blow this out of proportion.

The two men seem to size each other up. _This is why men shouldn’t be put in charge of armies_ , she thinks. She’s surprised when the taller of the two extends his arm. “It’s good to see you again,” he says in a strained tone. _Oh, maybe this won’t be so bad_. “Sorry about your ship.”

Something in Rose’s gut clenches. _Or maybe it will_. Because of all the things to say to Poe, bringing up the memory of _Black One_ ’s destruction was perhaps _not the wisest_ choice. 

The tension between the two men is palpable, and after waiting what feels like three eternities, Rose goes to plan B… and kicks Poe’s boot. 

Commendably Poe — Leader of the Resistance — seems to swallow his pride and also extends his arm. What follows might not have been the friendliest of forearm handshakes — Zanturan wrestling matches have been known to be more subdued — but given the circumstances Rose is not complaining. 

Finally the men knock it off.

“So Rey...” says Rose, still trying to process what their appearance means. “Palpatine…”

“Umm… well—” (And at this point Rey _takes Ben’s hand in hers and holds it!_ ) “—it wasn’t exactly straight forward, but…” Rey and _Ben_ catch each other’s eyes, and Rose is sure she has never seen such a _soft_ expression on a man so _large_. “… but we got through.” Rey turns back to Rose. “We thought we’d see if you needed any help before we… kind of took off.”

Rose can feel Poe tense at the notion of the former Supreme Leader of the First Order and then the Empire _leaving_ under his own free will. There had been descent in the Council from the start about _the Arrangement_ , and it only grew when the _Asset_ was reported captured. Many Council members would have preferred an execution or imprisonment, especially once he wasn’t ‘holding up his end of the bargain’.

Poe is about to open his mouth when Rose jumps in, “You know… I think we have it from here.” 

“ _Rose_ ,” Poe hisses under his breath. 

Rose keeps going. “You’re welcome to stock up if you need any supplies. But, yeah. I think we’ve got this. _Right_ General?” She looks at Poe with her best pleading eyes.

He looks between her and them. And finally tosses his hands up in the air as he stalks back towards the X-wings. 

Rey leans towards her. “Was that a yes?”

“I think so, but, Rey, you should _go_.” She gives the taller woman another tight embrace. “And maybe lay low for a while.” 

“Okay, we will.” They separate. “But Rose?”

“Hm?”

“Could we borrow some food first?”

* * *

Later, as Rose prepares for the Holo-Net cast to start, Poe turns to her. “So you just let him go.”

Rose smiles. “What can I say? If we’re going to rebuild this galaxy the right way, we need to start saving what we love.” And with that she turns back to the encoded message she’s writing to a certain ex-First Order officer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for reading everyone.
> 
> Comments and questions always welcome.
> 
> If you liked this fic, come share on [Twitter (@InaraLock)](https://twitter.com/InaraLock/status/1230997630139891712) or [Tumblr (@DarkSideOfMe-Reylo)](https://darksideofme-reylo.tumblr.com/post/190956845766/thaw-my-frozen-heart), or on [Miranda's post](https://miranda13ao3.tumblr.com/post/190842097425/thaw-my-frozen-heart-a-bounty-hunter-decides-that).


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